


Firedance

by ReginaPendragon



Series: Fire and Ice universe [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Skating, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:05:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 124,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReginaPendragon/pseuds/ReginaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the road to the Olympic Games, finding a skating partner was the easy part.<br/>Regina Mills and Robin Locksley had a dream first season skating together but as they climb the ranks of competitive ice dance and battle with rivals both old and new, balancing their on-ice partnership with their off-ice relationship will be the challenge of a lifetime. But Mills and Locksley aren’t afraid of a little competition. With an Olympic medal on the line, these skaters aren’t leaving anything up to chance. They have what it takes to be competitive, but do they have what it takes to be Olympic champions?<br/>The sequel to Fire and Ice. Rated M for future chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. End of the off-season

**Author's Note:**

> This is it, folks: the Fire and Ice sequel! Thanks again to everyone who read Fire and Ice: this 'verse wouldn't be possible if it wasn't for your readership and feedback. One quick note: there is a three month time skip between the end of Fire and Ice and the beginning of Firedance.

Regina Mills tapped her freshly manicured fingernails against the desk, her agitation increasing with every word her costume designer spoke. Mal had texted her in the middle of the night about a costume emergency. How the hell can there be a costume emergency when the season hasn’t even started yet? Regina had asked as much when she called Mal back at a reasonable hour this morning only to get an indignant huff in response.

“The fabric is fraying all over the place,” Mal lamented in a hollow voice. “I told you I don’t like to work with metallic fabrics, dear. We need to scrap the whole thing and start fresh.”

“But you have to do something!” Regina hissed in response. She was using the phone in the coaches’ office, but the door was wide open. Anyone could walk by and find out that something was amiss. And that was something Regina could not afford.

As luck (or fate) would have it, this costume mishap was not the first thing to go wrong during the skating off-season. After Regina and Robin returned from their blissful two week holiday in England, things had been going wrong all over the place. First it was their music: after finally convincing their coaches to let them skate to music from Hamilton for the short dance, two of their rival teams turned around and announced that they were skating to Hamilton too. Then there had been that embarrassing interview with Sidney Glass – a journalist from a major skating magazine – in which Sidney had fawned all over Regina and ignored Robin completely. To make matters worse, they weren’t even getting a cover shot out of the deal. Oh no. That honour went to Darling and Pan, the team that won the Junior World Championships.

“I can’t stand Pan’s smug little face,” Regina complained to Robin after the magazine hit newsstands. “Winning world juniors is no indicator of potential senior success.”

Robin was usually inclined to think well of others, but after a year skating with Regina, he’d also learned to trust her instincts. “He does look like a cheeky little bastard,” Robin admitted. “And you’re right. Their lack of height difference is less than ideal for senior ice dancers.”

But the rest of the skating world seemed to disagree. Everywhere they went, everyone was talking about Darling and Pan. And when they weren’t talking about that, they were talking about the upcoming Battle of the Hamiltons.

“I can’t believe LeFay and Ambrose are skating to Hamilton,” Regina had said upon hearing the news. “They’re from Canada! What the hell do they know about Hamilton?”

“Probably about as much as I know about Hamilton,” Robin pointed out.  
He laughed it off but Regina failed to see the humour in the situation. So now this costume emergency, whatever it was, was just the latest in a stream of bad news. “Please Mal,” Regina continued in a more conciliatory tone. “You’re the best costume designer in the world. I know you can make this work.” Appealing to Mal’s vanity was the last line of defense.

Mal sighed and even though Regina could not see her face, she knew the costume designer was rubbing her temples. “Yvaine had more than one costume in the movie, dear.”

At least no one else had laid claim to Mills and Locksley’s free dance music. During their time off, Regina and Robin’s hunt for next season’s music had taken them down the rabbit hole of film soundtracks and the Stardust soundtrack was one that stood out from the crowd. The music was grand enough for a skating routine, but it had never been skated to before. It had a traditional classical sound, so it would contrast well with their hip hop short dance. And Yvaine, the film’s supernatural leading lady, was exactly the sort of character Regina could relate to. The only problem was Yvaine only wore two distinct costumes in the movie: a silvery bell-sleeved number and a fancier corseted gown of deep blue.

“I can’t have blue costumes for both programs,” Regina reminded Mal. They’d already chosen a light blue for her short dance dress. “You said so yourself.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Mal scolded. “Your short dance dress is more of a blue-green. It invokes a completely different era. Blue will look better on you than silver anyway. And it will go better with Robin’s costume.”

Regina gritted her teeth. “Fine.” She knew when to admit defeat. Mal was the best costume designer in the world for a reason. If she couldn’t trust Mal, who could she trust?

“That’s the spirit! I’ll send over some sketches.” Mal hung up without saying goodbye. Typical. 

Regina hung up the phone and stalked out of the office – running right into Guinevere Troyes. Regina narrowed her eyes and held her ground. Had her training mate been eavesdropping?  
But Guinevere looked breezy and unaffected. Her mood had changed a great deal after getting away from her abusive former coach. But sometimes Regina found Guinevere’s presence difficult to contend with. As much as Regina wanted to get to know her new training mate better, Guinevere never seemed to be alone. Her steps were constantly dogged by her hangers-on. Guinevere’s partner Lancelot was easy to be around, but Regina found the couple’s PDA off-putting. There was also Gwaine Mallory, their coach: a human puppy with long shaggy hair to match and a penchant for telling jokes so bad even David Nolan would cringe. Rounding out the entourage was De Vil, Troyes and DuLac’s choreographer: a tall woman with a severe bob and frightfully penciled-in eyebrows who preferred to be known by her surname only.  
Guinevere was alone today and immediately Regina’s suspicious nature made a little ping in her brain. Stop being so paranoid, she scolded herself. Not everyone is out to get you. “Hi Guin,” she said, in a voice she prayed sounded natural. “Do you need the office?”

Guinevere, still smiling, shook her head. “No, no. I was looking for you!”

Oh, Regina thought. Maybe I was right to be suspicious. It seemed unfair to be suspicious of a young woman who had just escaped from a nightmarish coaching situation, especially when Regina had helped save her. She felt a kinship with the other girl after rescuing her from Arthur, but personality-wise there was a conflict that Regina couldn’t quite define.

“We haven’t had much of a chance to get to know each other,” Guinevere was saying. “And I want that to change. I was hoping you and Robin could go out for dinner with me and Lancelot sometime soon so we can call get to know each other better.”

See? Regina said to herself. Nothing to be suspicious of. Save your suspicions for the competition. “That sounds lovely,” she said, and she meant it. Maybe if she got to know Guinevere and Lancelot better, she could stop worrying so much.

The girls walked back to the rink together. They chatted about the Grand Prix and which competitions they hoped to be assigned to. Assignments would be announced tomorrow: the last day of June. Regina was a basket of nerves. Even though Mills and Locksley’s stellar performances last season had earned them two spots on the Grand Prix, they had no way of knowing who they’d be competing against or where they’d be going until the announcement was made. At least their competitive rivals were all in the same boat. While the top three got their first pick of assignments, at the end of the day they would all live or die by the Grand Prix. It was not a competition for the faint of heart.

Guinevere touched Regina’s arm. “Look!” she said. “There are two handsome young men waiting for us by the boards.”

Regina followed Guinevere’s gaze and spotted Robin and Lancelot. “Indeed there are,” she remarked as Guinevere surged forward and wrapped her arms around Lancelot’s neck. “And here comes the PDA.” She looked away while her training mates shamelessly kissed. “Do they have to do that in public all the time?” she muttered.

Robin looked sheepish as he stepped away from the happy couple. “You’re not jealous, are you?” he teased as they came face to face. 

Regina rolled her eyes. “Why on earth would I be jealous when I have a handsome partner of my own to kiss?” she inquired innocently before inching up on the toes of her running shoes to give him a chaste peck on the lips. Regina wasn’t in favour of public displays of affection so Robin enjoyed it immensely when she made an exception to her rule.

“So what did Mal have to say?” Robin asked as they left their training mates to their PDA and headed to the gym. “Nothing too serious I hope.”

Oh Robin, she thought fondly. Always the optimist. “She has to redo my entire free dance costume,” Regina reported. “In dark blue instead of silver.”

Robin chuckled softly but offered no reply.

Regina looked askance at him. “You liked the blue dress in the movie better, didn’t you. You should have said something.”

Robin cleared his throat before speaking. “I didn’t want to step on your toes, milady. Especially when it comes to fashion.”

Always so considerate, she thought. Almost considerate to a fault. “You’re allowed to disagree with me, you know,” she reminded him. “Just because we’re partners doesn’t mean we share a hive mind.”

Robin looked scandalized. “Perish the thought! I have no intention of joining the Borg Collective.”

As part of Robin’s indoctrination into modern American life, he’d been immersing himself in American television during the off-season. Currently he was deep into Star Trek: The Next Generation and he’d been making references nonstop. Regina was more of a Deep Space Nine/Voyager fan, but she didn’t want to rain on his parade. “I’m glad you’re having fun with it,” she said as they entered the weight room. 

Fun would be in short supply soon enough: the Grand Prix assignments were being announced tomorrow and their fate would be sealed. Their entire competitive season rested upon how well they did on the Grand Prix. 

“Do you think they’ll send us to Skate America again this year?” Robin mused as he picked out his favourite free weights. 

“They’ll send Marvella and Gardiner for sure,” Regina predicted. “And Kathryn and Frederick will get the host pick if she’s recovered enough. But the other spot… no, I won’t call it. I don’t want to jinx us.”

“What about our second event then?” Robin wondered. “I hope we don’t get two back to back.”

“Let’s pray we don’t.” Regina grimaced as she chose lighter weights for herself. “They could send us to China, Russia, France or Japan. It’s too early to tell.”

“Guinevere and Lancelot are guaranteed to go to France though, right?” Robin guessed. “If the top three get first choice.”

“Must be nice to get first choice,” Regina grumbled as she started her exercises. 

****

Unlike Regina, Robin felt confident that they would be assigned to Skate America. It was a matter of logistics. After the World Championships, Mills and Locksley had moved up in the world, surpassing Swan and Jones as the second-ranked American ice dance team. Surely, he told himself, the organizers of Skate America would want their best skaters at their event. Mills and Locksley were now among the best. So he was confident. He wasn’t going to overthink things.

Usually Regina, his brilliant partner, was the confident one. But he could see the wheels in her head turning, even as they progressed through their usual post-skating workout routine. Her mind was wandering furiously, considering every scenario and every possible outcome. He admired her for it, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle having a mind like that himself. That much thinking would surely drive him to madness.

But not his Regina. Robin had accepted a long time ago that she was far cleverer than he was. But he didn’t mind. It only increased the depth of his affection for her. Falling in love had not been part of the plan when he auditioned with her last year. Finding someone to compete with was the only goal that mattered to him. But now… now he had all that and more. Everything was going well.

So why did he feel a nagging sense of doubt in his confidence? It wasn’t because of the mistake he’d made at Four Continents. That was ages ago. He’d even spoken to the sports psychologist about it to help absolve his guilt. So what was it? Was it about his skating? It couldn’t be. He was in the best shape of his life. Was it their relationship? Maybe the thing that frightened him the most was that he cared more deeply for Regina than she did for him. He hadn’t considered the possibility in any great detail until a few nights ago when the thought had come unbidden in a dream and he hadn’t been able to shake it when he woke up. The feeling that he didn’t deserve her. That she was too smart, too beautiful, too talented for him. What did he have to offer besides his strong partnering skills? What more could he do for her that she couldn’t already do for herself?

Her lovely voice cracked into his thoughts, sending him spiraling back to earth in a rush that made him blink and set down his weights. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, shaking his head to clear the cloud of worry away. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Guinevere and Lancelot invited us out on a double date!” Regina repeated. Her face was tinged pink from the exercise but she still took his breath away. “I know they can be a little overbearing with the obnoxious public makeouts, but I think it will be fun.”

“Fun,” Robin repeated, drinking in every word with heavy concentration. Why wouldn’t it be fun? An evening out and a nice meal with interesting company was exactly what he needed to get over his doubts. “That sounds wonderful,” he agreed at last. 

Regina smiled fondly and clapped her hands. “Perfect! I’ll let Guin know and we can decide on a day.” 

Her smile chased away the lingering remnants of Robin’s worries. If she can still smile at me like that, I shan’t worry about another thing as long as I live. And he didn’t worry. Not when they got home for the evening and found their housemate Tina “Tinkerbell” Kerr had made a mess in the kitchen trying to make dinner. He didn’t ruminate when Tink proceeded to spend the rest of the night Skyping with her girlfriend, leaving Regina and Robin to clean up the mess. Nor did he brood when Regina descended upon with him a flurry of insistent kisses to make up for her lack of affection in public. He had nothing to worry about that night.

He should have known then that it was too good to last.

The mood at the rink the next day was tense. Practice sessions were lackluster as skaters went through the motions without their usual sense of purpose as the Grand Prix announcement weighed heavily on their minds. Even Mulan, the skating club’s physiotherapist, was beside herself with worry. She showed up around noon and unceremoniously seated herself in the stands with a tablet that she refreshed every five minutes to see if the announcement had been posted yet. As the minutes ticked by, the skaters started paying more attention to Mulan than to their training. 

Finally, just after 1:00pm, Mulan stood up and waved her arms over her head.

“That’s the signal!” someone shouted. The skaters raced to their phones and laptops to see the announcement for themselves but Robin made a beeline for Mulan. A frown creased her forehead as she scrolled through the list on her screen.

“Don’t tell me it’s bad news,” Robin said in a would-be casual voice.

Mulan looked up, startled by his presence. “It depends on what you mean by bad news,” she said, and turned the tablet toward him.

Robin’s eyes skimmed down the list for Skate America: sure enough, Marvella and Gardiner were there, along with Aurelius and Jameson. But Mills and Locksley’s names were not on the list.

Swan and Jones’s names were there instead.

Robin felt the world slide out from under him as he read the names again. Swan and Jones. It had to be a mistake. He’d been so certain… so certain they’d be assigned to Skate America. He’d been counting on it. He would have bet money on it. And now… what was he supposed to think now? How could his instincts have been so completely and utterly off? And what would Regina think?

He looked up to find her and she was already looking at him from across the arena. She already knew. They moved toward each other as if guided by an invisible hand putting two puzzle pieces together. At first neither one spoke. Robin studied her face: her eyes were bright and the beginnings of a smile were forming on her lips. But then she faltered, put off by the look of devastating defeat that cast him downward. 

“Are you okay?” Her voice echoed in his ears, drowning out the excited chatter of the other skaters.  
For the first time in many months, Robin was at a loss for words. Regina’s face fell before him: the sparkle in her eyes went dull and a crease appeared between her dark eyes. Oh no you don’t, he thought to himself. I’m not dragging you down into the darkness with me. “I… I was just so certain we’d get Skate America again this season,” he said in a voice so emotionless it was almost robotic.  
Relief washed over her and she reached up to take his despondent face in her warm hands. “That’s what you’re worried about?” She sounded incredulous. “Oh Robin. You’re so sentimental.” She gave her head a little shake and gave him a rare public kiss on the cheek.

He gawked at her as she pulled away. She was smiling again. Did she know something he didn’t? “I don’t understand,” he stammered.

“You wanted to go back to Skate America because it was our first Grand Prix together!” she exclaimed. “That’s so sweet.”

Realization dawned on him and he wanted to crawl into a hole to escape the embarrassment. She was right. She’s always right, he marveled. How does she know what I’m thinking before I even realise it myself? She must be magic. 

“If you’re done brooding, you might be interested to know what our actual assignments are,” Regina said, her lovely voice cutting into his disparate thoughts. 

Robin had to chuckle at himself. He’d been so distraught he hadn’t even looked at the rest of the damn list. “Please tell me we’re going someplace nice,” he begged. “I’m not sure I can take any more disappointment.”

Regina had the webpage open on her smartphone. “Check it out: we got Canada and France this year!” She used her index finger to scroll down the list. “We actually got a very good draw. We’re the second-ranked team at both events. And we won’t have to face any of the other Americans until the Grand Prix Final.”

It was astounding how two people could take the same news so differently. Robin had seen only the downside of not getting assigned to Skate America, but Regina was already planning ahead and strategizing. She’s definitely magic, he decided. And she’s all mine.

He must have been grinning like a fool because Regina rolled her eyes and punched him in the shoulder. “You’re even more sensitive that I am!” she giggled as she gave his arm a tug and pulled him out into the hallway. “You looked really worried.” She looked around to make sure no one had followed them. “You almost scared me for a minute there.”

“Oh no,” he whispered. “I’m being a prat. What must you think of me.”

“Don’t worry: I still think you’re adorable. Just… don’t forget, you can always talk to me.” She caught his eye and held it. “About anything. Even if it seems silly. Promise me you will?”

“Of course I will,” he promised. “I’m sorry I gave you a fright. It’s like you said: I’m a sentimental old fool.”

She sighed and kissed him again. “But you’re my sentimental old fool. Now come on. By the time we’ve conquered this year’s Grand Prix, it’s everyone else who’s going to look foolish.”


	2. Champs Camp

“Are you sure you don’t mind me inviting Elsa over while you guys are out of town?” Tink asked for what was at least the twentieth time. 

“I already told you it was fine!” Regina’s patience was beginning to wear thin. Tink was supposed to be helping her pack, but the energetic blonde was more interested in lamenting the state of her love life today. “Are you going to help me or not?” Regina prompted. 

Tink reluctantly rose from her perch on Regina’s bed and peered into her half-filled suitcase. “Good God, Regina. How much stuff are you taking? You’re only going for four days!”

“The weather varies in Colorado Springs,” Regina informed her as she placed a neatly folded sweater on top of the pile. “I want to be prepared. This is an important trip for us.”

Regina had been attending summer sessions at US Figure Skating Champs Camp ever since her first year on the Junior Grand Prix, but she’d missed the last two: first because of her injury and second due to the newness of her partnership last year. 

“Oh sure,” Tink scoffed. “Doing teambuilding exercises and practicing your best ‘Go USA!’ cheers with your competition must be very important.”

Regina glowered at her. “It’s not just about team spirit,” she said through gritted teeth as she added socks to the overstuffed suitcase. “The whole point of Champs Camp is to give skaters a chance to showcase our new routines in a stimulated competitive environment and receive feedback from US Skating officials and judges about our programs.” 

A sly smile appeared on Tink’s face. “What happens if the judges don’t like your new programs?”

“Bite your tongue, Tinkerbell,” Regina hissed. “Don’t joke about that. People have had to change entire programs after Champs Camp because the judges didn’t like them.”

That sobered her up. Tink’s playful smile was replaced by a look of disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was.”

Tink let out a low whistle. “Wow. Suddenly I’m grateful the Australian Skating Federation doesn’t meddle with its skaters as much as yours does.” She turned her attention back to Regina’s suitcase. “You should pack those cute high-waisted shorts with the buttons,” she suggested. “Give Robin a little something to look at.”

“We’re not going to have much time to socialize,” Regina started to say, but Tink was already in the drawer rooting for them. “Oh fine,” Regina agreed upon seeing them. “My butt does look good in these.”

Tink nodded approvingly. “I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

Despite her lack of patience for the silly scavenger hunts and other frivolous trappings of the Champs Camp, Regina was looking forward to it. She hadn’t seen any of her competitors in months and she wanted to reconnect with some of her friends from the other disciplines as well. Regina Mills wasn’t one to sit still for long. As much as she needed the off-season to recharge and relax, she was more than ready to start competing again. “I hope that Sidney guy from the Ice Mirror isn’t going to be there,” she said as she threw a few more necessities into the suitcase. Every year reporters from several sports publications were granted media access to Champs Camp to drum up publicity for the new season. 

“Is that the weirdo who interviewed you for the magazine?” Tink asked. “That article he wrote was a joke. The way he told it, he made it sound as if you were doing all the work in the partnership. There wasn’t even one lousy quote from poor Robin.”

Regina grimaced at the memory. Sidney Glass had seemed professional enough when he conducted the interview, albeit a little overbearing. Regina still couldn’t comprehend how he’d twisted her words into such a one-sided article. But there weren’t many sports journalists who covered figure skating anymore. Interest in the sport only really peaked in Olympic years. Writers like Sidney, who wrote about skating exclusively, were remnants of a dying breed. “Let’s not dwell on it,” she decided at last. “I’m going to Champs Camp and I fully intend to have a good time.” And maybe if Robin plays his cards right, he’ll have a good time too, she added to herself. 

Tink shuffled from one foot to the other, eyeing Regina nervously. “Are you mad at me?” she said after Regina shot her a look of annoyance. 

Regina goggled at her. “Why the hell would I be mad at you?”

Tink sighed tragically. “For being a pain about Elsa. We can’t meet at her place because her roommate doesn’t know…”

“It’s fine.” Regina shook her head. I’ve been a little short with poor Tink lately, she lamented. It’s not her fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. I’m just letting my frustration with the off-season get the better of me. “I think something else is bothering you, though.” Tink had been acting squirrely for days. “You’ve been weird ever since that night we invited Guinevere and Lancelot over.”

Tink huffed indignantly. “I have not been weird. They’re the weird ones.”

Regina frowned at her. “What makes you say that? They’re still getting used to living here. This is all new for them, don’t forget.” 

Tink still looked sulky. “You guys get to go out and have fun with the people you love. But people think Elsa and I are just friends. No one aside from her sister even knows…”

That’s the real issue, Regina thought to herself. It has nothing to do with me, but with society. “Maybe next time Robin and I have a double date, we’ll double with you and Elsa instead,” she suggested. 

Tink’s eyes lit up and she pulled Regina into an organ-squeezing hug. “Thank you! I knew you’d understand.”

Regina patted Tink awkwardly on the back. “What are friends for?” she murmured as she caught sight of her bewildered expression in the mirror. Maybe I need to pay attention to things at home instead of things at the rink, she thought to herself. 

****

“This feels familiar,” Robin said as they found their seats on the flight to Colorado. “We’re always getting on planes together.”

“Lucky thing neither of us is afraid of flying,” Regina remarked.

Robin gave her a sly look. “I’d let you hold on to me if you were. I wouldn’t mind.” He’d gotten over his disappointment about the Grand Prix assignments and was back to his usual good-natured flirting. He was even looking forward to competing in Canada for the first time. Or maybe he was just looking forward to sampling the local cuisine. “Merlin Ambrose told me about this delightful dish called poutine,” Robin continued. “Apparently it’s a calorie-laden festival of culinary sin. But he said I have to try it while I’m in Canada.”

Regina had heard of the dish, but she hadn’t tried it herself. “Maybe I’ll break my diet and join you – after the competition, that is.”

Robin grinned. “I’ll hold you to that, milady.”

Upon their arrival at the official event hotel, Regina was overjoyed to see that her roommate would be none other than Kathryn Aurelius, a skater she’d befriended at Nationals back in January. The two girls hugged enthusiastically while their partners exchanged more mild-mannered nods. They’re such boys, Regina thought fondly. She turned her attention back to Kathryn once they made it to the hotel room. “Look at you – you look so fit! I see your recovery has gone well.” Regina almost didn’t recognize the toned, muscular girl who stood before her. It wasn’t just her extremely fit figure: Kathryn had also cut her hair and dyed it a lighter shade of blonde. 

Kathryn smiled shyly and tucked a piece of her now shorter hair behind her ear. “I thought it was time for a change, you know? There’s something about a major injury that really puts things in perspective. But of course that’s something you can understand.”

“Am I allowed to ask how you’re feeling?” Regina inquired. “Or are you sick of people asking that.”

Kathryn shook her head. “Not at all. I’m pain-free and I’m in the best shape of my life. I’ll never get tired of answering that question.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Regina busied herself with unpacking, searching for her favourite workout leggings. Once both girls were outfitted in their workout gear, they headed downstairs to the hotel conference room for the orientation meeting with the other skaters. The meeting itself wasn’t very interesting, but Regina caught Robin listening with rapt attention. 

“It’s my first Champs Camp,” he said sheepishly. “I want to make sure I don’t miss anything. We didn’t have anything like this back in England.” 

The team doctor took the speaker’s podium and Regina recoiled involuntarily. She hadn’t laid on eyes on Doctor Whale in over two years. Not since the day…

Robin knew something was wrong right away. “What is it?” he whispered. “Who is that man? I saw him at Nationals.”

“He’s the American team doctor,” Regina whispered back. Her voice wavered and she clamped down on her fear and let it give way to anger. “He’s the bastard who told me I’d never skate again.”

Robin trained his face into one of his standard polite expressions, but Regina could sense he was angry on her behalf. Whale didn’t stay onstage for long: he was only there to announce the teams for the scavenger hunt. “Team 1: Boyd, Cassidy, Christian, Chevalier, Darling, Jameson, Jones, Marvella, Mills, Mills and Nolan. Team 2: Aurelius, Bennett, Benson, Blanchard, Crane, Gardiner, Locksley, Page, Pan, Smith and Swan,” Doctor Whale intoned in a bored voice. “Good luck everyone. Don’t forget about fitness evaluations tomorrow.”

“What a grump,” Regina muttered after Whale slouched off the stage. “Looks like this is where I leave you for a bit,” she added reluctantly to Robin. 

“I’ll be alright,” Robin reassured her. “I’ve got a scavenger hunt to win.”

“Oh please,” Regina scoffed. “My team is going to win.”

Robin grinned at her. “Competitive, aren’t you? I like that.” He winked at her and walked away to find his teammates. Regina watched him go and something tugged at her heartstrings. She had half a mind to follow him, but her teammates found her first and all but surrounded her. 

“First things first,” Abbie Mills spoke up. “We’re going to win this thing. Right everyone?” There was a general murmuring of agreement among the entire group. Abbie nodded approvingly and continued. “Second order of business: we need a team captain and I would like to humbly nominate Regina Mills, my sister from another Mr., for the honour.”

There was another murmur of ascent from the group and Killian Jones raised his hand. “I’ll second that nomination!” he said. 

Regina was utterly bewildered by this turn of events. “Wait, hold up. You guys want me to be Team Captain?” Her eyes jumped from face to face, trying to see if they were collectively messing with her, but she saw no indication of insincerity. “Why me?”

“The question you should be asking is why not you,” Killian said. “You’re one of the fiercest competitors I’ve ever seen.”

“Not only that, but you’re strong as hell and you came back from an injury that could have ended your career,” Frederick Jameson chimed in.

“You found good fortune in your new partnership,” Alice Marvella added.

“You’re a good friend,” David Nolan contributed.

“And you’re way cool,” Violet Chevalier, a young Junior skater with stars in her eyes, spoke up. 

“What they’re trying to say is that you, Other Mills, are an inspiration to us all,” Abbie concluded. “Shall we put it to a vote?”

The vote was unanimous in Regina’s favour. Regina herself was still bewildered by the entire process but something inside of her reached up to push her doubt aside. People believe in me, she realized. I can’t let them down. They want me to be their captain, then so be it. I’ll be the best damn captain they’ve ever seen. “Alright people,” she said in her most authoritative voice. She drew herself up to her full height. She felt a little silly, as all of the men on her team towered over her, so she moved back a few steps and planted her feet firmly. Strong foundations equal strong teams, she said to herself. It was one of her coach’s favourite mantras. “There are 30 items on this list. Before we start searching, let’s see if any of this junk is readily available. Some of us probably have stuff in our suitcases or our hotel rooms. Whatever we can’t find, we’ll split up into teams and comb every inch of this facility.”

“Right-o, boss!” Killian cheered.

“Just tell us where to look,” Ashley Boyd added.

“In the meantime, I’ll be taking suggestions for team names,” Regina continued. 

“We did colours last year,” Eric Christian said. “Team Red and Team Blue.”

Regina shook her head. “No way. We’re not having any of those basic primary colours this year. How about… Team Purple?”

“Like when you mix red and blue together!” Wendy Darling spoke up. “That’s brilliant.”

Regina smiled victoriously. “Okay then! Team Purple it is. Now let’s win this thing!”

****

Team Purple thoroughly trounced Team Green in the scavenger hunt. Robin, being a man who aimed to create harmony in group settings, wasn’t keen to lay blame on anyone for his team’s failure, though his teammates grumbled and complained that young Peter Pan’s overconfidence had led their team to ruin. 

“We’re electing a proper team captain tomorrow,” Emma whispered to Robin, Snow and Jefferson after the day’s activities wrapped up. “I’m going to nominate Crane if that’s okay with you guys. The dude has a photographic memory. We should have listened to him all along and not let that kid run riot.”

“He was a bit cheeky,” Robin agreed. Pan had insisted on green as the team colour and afterwards he tried to take over the entire activity. Not that he stood a chance against Regina’s highly organized leadership of Team Purple. 

Or maybe Robin’s head hadn’t been in the game the entire time. All through the afternoon, even as he and Snow crawled into supply closets and under bleachers looking for buried treasure, Robin had not been able to push thoughts of Regina out of his mind. She was always on his mind these days. He’d be moseying along, going about his business, and suddenly there she was: a hint of her smile, a flash of her eyes, a flip of her dark hair and he was lost to her. He was in deeper than he’d ever been with a girl. No, not a girl. They were in their twenties now, after all. She was woman. Maybe that’s why it felt different. The girls he’d liked before were just that: girls. Regina had moved beyond that part of her existence and emerged as a fully-realized human woman. 

A woman he was falling madly in love with.

The notion terrified him. Not in the way that a scary movie or a haunted house could terrify a person, but in a way that altered his own existence profoundly. Maybe “terrified” isn’t the right word, he thought to himself. Was he just in awe of her? No, no. The word “awe” was also inadequate. Was there even a word to describe what he felt? If there wasn’t a proper word, it had to be love. What else could it be?

And what was he so afraid of?

She was standing over him. When had she gotten there? He looked up, momentarily blinded by her radiance, until she scowled at him and the spell was broken. “Hey space case.” She nudged his running shoe with her own. “I heard you and your teammates let yourselves get bossed around by some snot-nosed kid. How old is that guy? 14?”

Robin shook his head to clear away the last of the mental cobwebs. “I think Peter is 18,” he said. “Not that it matters. We’re staging a hostile takeover tomorrow to elect Crane as Team Captain.”

“Vive la revolution.” She sat down next to him on the bench in the hotel lobby. “Why Crane though?”

Robin shrugged. “It was Emma’s idea. And I see why. He’s organized, regimented and he abhors nonsense. He’ll keep the team in line.”

Regina looked thoughtful. “You don’t think there’s anyone else on your team capable of leading? Someone like… you, for example?”

Robin bowed his head modestly. “I’d feel better about being team captain if my team wasn’t going up against a team lead by you,” he admitted. “I’m afraid I’d be utterly defeated.”

“Hmm.” She tilted her head thoughtfully and leaned a little closer. “So you’re saying you’d just roll over and surrender to me?” Her eyes were playful.

Robin sighed and looped an arm around her waist. “Too late, milady. The white flag is has already been raised.”

Regina grinned victoriously and conquered him with a heated kiss. “Prepare to be boarded, captain.”

Not fair, he thought to himself as he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. Competing against Regina would never be a fair fight. Better to admit defeat and enjoy the spoils that came with it. Losing to Regina Mills wasn’t such a bad prospect. Not when he had so much to gain. “Permission to come aboard granted,” he managed to gasp out between kisses. “Perhaps our two ships should make an alliance?”

“I’m amenable to that,” she said. “As captain, I’m going to need a very capable first officer. And you just happen to be the perfect man for the job.”

Oh, he thought. Someone wants to play. “And what job is that?” he asked innocently.

Regina looked him square in the eye. “I think you know what job I’m taking about.”

Robin cleared his throat pointedly. “Perhaps we should move somewhere more… discrete?” he suggested. 

“You’re on.” Regina rose gracefully from the bench and reached out for his hand, tugging him up after her. They raced for the nearest elevator, giggling all the way, making a mad grab for each other as the doors slid closed. The elevator ride back to Regina’s floor took ages: plenty of time to keep flirting and kissing. Robin’s hands made their way to Regina’s waist and she held them there with her own. The light drag of her fingernails across his skin was maddening. His hands were still around her waist when they traipsed off the elevator and down the hall to her room. He didn’t let go of her when she swiped her keycard, or when he followed her inside, pressing insistent little kisses to the side of her neck as they went.

He did, however, let go of her when he saw Kathryn and Frederick sprawled out on Kathryn’s bed.

Kathryn swore and pushed Frederick away. “Holy crap, Mills. Warn a girl next time.” Her rebuke was stern, but a giggle escaped and Kathryn’s façade crumbled. “Oh what the hell,” she sighed in defeat. “I can’t blame you for having the same idea we did.”

“Let’s go back to my room,” Frederick tried to suggest but Kathryn waved him off. 

“And what do you think we’ll find there?” she said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” Frederick murmured as his face turned red. “My roommate will probably be…”

“With his girlfriend,” Kathryn supplied. “This is getting out of hand. We need some sort of system to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Regina, thoroughly flustered by what had just transpired, gave Robin a playful shove back toward the door. “We’ll come back in… twenty minutes? Or whatever works for you guys.”

Kathryn looked infinitely relieved. “Make it half an hour just in case.” She winked. Frederick looked mortified.

“Sure thing. Come on, Robin. Let’s leave them to it. Captain’s orders.”

Robin and Regina waited until they were back in the elevator before dissolving into laughter again. “Did you see the look on poor Frederick’s face?” Regina crowed as she held on to Robin’s arm for support. “He’ll never be able to look me in the eye again.”

“He did seem rather out of sorts,” Robin recalled. He checked his watch, already impatient to get her alone again. “29 minutes to go.”

“Don’t worry,” Regina said soothingly. “We’ll find a way to amuse ourselves.”

They ended up going for a walk through the wooded area behind the hotel. They talked about what was to come tomorrow – another teambuilding exercise and a health evaluation with Doctor Whale’s medical team. Regina had already requested to be evaluated by Doctor Whale’s younger colleague. “I still don’t trust him,” she admitted. “I know he was within his field of expertise when he first diagnosed my injury but… truth be told, I never liked the man. Even before I got hurt…” she trailed off and made a non-committal gesture. “I just don’t like him. I have no reason for it. I know it sounds crazy…”

“Never crazy,” he reassured her. “That’s just your intuition working overtime. I’ll see him tomorrow and I’ll decide for myself what kind of man he is.”

Robin was determined to make up his own mind about the team doctor, so he permitted Doctor Whale to conduct his medical evaluation the following day. Regina was off being interviewed by a reporter who was doing a piece on the women of ice dance, which left Robin with plenty of time to come to his own conclusions about the doctor. Whale was quiet when he entered the weight room. He introduced himself and let Robin work his way through the circuit of exercises, making notes as he went but not saying anything. Robin wondered if he should say something, but thought better of it. No news is good news, he told himself. You know you’re in good shape. Just get through your circuit, get your results and get out. And next year consider doing what Regina did and get evaluated by the other team doctor. 

“Everything looks good,” Doctor Whale said at last, not even bothering to keep the undertone of boredom out of his voice. “You’re in fine shape, Mr. Locksley.”

“Thanks,” Robin said. For nothing, he added to himself. “I’ll see myself out.” He got up to leave but Whale held up a hand. 

“How is Regina doing these days?” he inquired. 

Was that a note of feigned politeness in his voice now? Robin wondered. No wonder Regina doesn’t like this guy. She doesn’t abide with phonies and neither do I. “She’s doing very well, thank you,” he responded as pleasantly as he could muster. I’m not playing your passive-aggressive little game, doctor. If you have something to say, say it. Don’t waste my time.

“It’s really amazing that she was able to recover,” Doctor Whale went on. “Given the severity of her injury. No one was more surprised to hear about it than me.”

“Is that so?” Robin asked. He kept a vague smile on his face but beneath his skin his blood boiled. 

Whale’s attitude shifted again, this time to mock concern. “She hasn’t been experiencing any pain or other side effects?”

Robin’s right hand involuntarily curled into a fist on the doorknob. “Not that I know of. As far as I know she’s fit as a fiddle.” Robin smiled politely again. “Is that all, doctor? I’d hate to be involved in some sort of breach of doctor-patient confidentiality.”

Doctor Whale narrowed his eyes suspiciously but made no further comment. Robin walked out, letting the door slam back against its frame much harder than he normally would have. Regina’s always right, he thought unhappily as he made his way down the hall. I wish I had instincts like hers.

But Robin didn’t need instinct to tell him when something was wrong. When he met up with Regina later she was lost in thought and quieter than usual. Kathryn and Frederick, being the accommodating people that they were, had relocated their extracurricular activities elsewhere on the second night of Champs Camp, which freed up the hotel room for Regina and Robin’s use. But Regina didn’t seem interested tonight. In fact she seemed… standoffish. This was new. She was wearing those cute little shorts he’d admired earlier in the summer, but rather than preening around as she usually would, she was subdued and curled in upon herself.

When Robin wasn’t busy being overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for her, he fell back on his old standby habit of worrying that he wasn’t good enough for her or that he liked her more than she liked him. It didn’t take much to set him off. He knew her so well that any time her behaviour deviated from the norm – any time she grew quiet or unresponsive – he knew something was wrong. The next step was to ask – gently – what that something was.

“How did your evaluation go?” he inquired in what he hoped was a casual voice. 

Regina shrugged. “It was fine. Doctor Lang said I’m the picture of health.”

Damn that Doctor Whale for planting seeds of doubt in his mind about her health. Robin pushed the intrusive thought aside and pressed onward. “So… something else is bothering you then. He didn’t try to speak to you, did he? I’ve decided I don’t like him either if that helps. He’s a shifty one.”

“No, I didn’t even see him today.” Regina crossed her arms and sunk down onto her mattress. “It was that creep Sidney Glass. I was sitting at the picnic table out back with Alice after our interview and he just came up to us and started talking. But then he wouldn’t leave us alone.” Regina shivered involuntarily. “He finally backed off when Emma showed up to rescue us. I guess it’s easier to leer and two girls alone than it is to leer at three. She told him off and he scampered away like a kicked puppy, as if we were the ones who did something wrong. It was so gross. Why do some guys have to be so gross?” She looked up at Robin but then looked away just as quickly. “Not you, of course,” she added. “I hate it. It makes me feel gross too. Like I’m just something pretty to look at and not an actual person with emotions and opinions.”

Robin didn’t have an easy answer for her. He tried his hardest to conduct himself with a sense of honour and decorum but he could only speak for himself. The way his fellow men treated women was something Robin took upon himself to call out and correct. But he could only correct the behaviour of others when he was there to witness it. “Next time I see Sidney Glass, I’ll be giving him a piece of my mind,” he promised. “And that so-called doctor as well. He was dreadfully unprofessional today.”

Regina was unsurprised by this news. “He asked you about me, didn’t he.”

Robin nodded.

Regina rolled her eyes. “Forget about those morons. We have our first test skate tomorrow. That’s what we’re here for.”

“Quite right,” Robin agreed. “Eyes on the prize, milady.”

Regina nodded, finally finding her bravado again. “Eyes on the prize.”


	3. The Challenger Series

Every action has an equal opposite reaction, Regina said to herself as she tried to keep her pulsing temper in check. Everything has been going so well. This is only a minor setback. It’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine. Everything is fine, damn it.

But her temper won out in the end, wild and unpredictable as it was. “Let me get this straight.” She looked her coaches square in the eye before continuing. “They liked the program but they have, and I quote, concerns?” She fixed Ursula with one of her most intimidating death glares. Her anger was still bubbling, casting around for someone to blame. Tink, for carelessly joking about having to change a program. Ursula, for not getting the choreography right the first time. The US Skating officials for not appreciating the program enough. Or herself for not skating it well enough. Regina’s anger ebbed and flowed, blaming everyone in turn before she turned on herself in the end. This is on me, she realized. This is what I get for being overconfident.

“Minor concerns!” Ursula was hasty to elaborate and dispel the doom and gloom. “They loved the music and the overall theme of the free dance, but they thought the transitions were a little too simple. And I agree. The free dance is great, but it doesn’t have the wow factor yet. If we want to get out of the middle of the pack and start challenging for the podium, we need to up the difficulty.”

“They’re not doing this to be mean,” John added. “And neither are we. But because we spent so much time working on the short dance…”

“…They thought the free dance was too simple by comparison,” Regina finished for him. “Well then. That puts a different spin on things. Don’t scare me like that again. You know how I get.” She gave Ursula and John one last pointed glare before letting her anger burn off. That was a close call, she thought to herself. Don’t get mad. Look for solutions instead. 

Ursula huffed. “Believe me, dear. I know it all too well.”

The remainder of Champs Camp had gone by the book. Mills and Locksley had received rave reviews for their new short dance and an encouraging response for their new free dance despite the flaws. It wasn’t as if they were being told to redo the entire thing. It’s better to be told now than to get halfway through the Grand Prix before realizing the program isn’t working, Regina reasoned with herself. We’ll work out the kinks and the free dance will come together. Everything will be fine.

So they went back to the drawing board. When asked about it later, Regina could tell reporters that the original free dance costume fiasco had been a harbinger of overhauling the program. The entire first step sequence ended up being re-choreographed to add more difficulty in the footwork and changes of hold. The result was a more technically challenging step sequence that also looked much more impressive on the ice. Regina didn’t mind the extra work if it meant the additional effort would pay off in the long run. Robin didn’t mind either. He liked to keep track of a program as it was being built to see where it could be improved upon. 

The linking movements between the elements were also re-jigged and retooled. The skaters had to work against the muscle memory they’d already learned for the original rough draft of the program to re-learn the new steps and turns. As a result, they barely had any time to throw together an exhibition piece for their first competition in September or to devote as much training time for their short dance on the ice.

In order to stay sharp, Regina booked the team for a few extra dance sessions at a hip hop studio across town. “Just because we haven’t had as much on-ice time with this program doesn’t mean we can’t work on it off-ice,” she reasoned. “And Alice’s boyfriend teaches at the studio we’re going to,” she added. “He said he’d give us the friends and family discount.”

“Very thrifty,” Robin said approvingly. “Heaven knows I need all the help I can get in the hip hop department.”

Even though the officials at Champs Camp had given Mills and Locksley the go-ahead on their Hamilton program, hip hop was still a risky venture for ice dance. 2016 was the first year hip hop was being made available as a possible rhythm choice for the short dance. The other choice available was swing (and all the other dance styles that were variations on swing, such as the jive and the lindy hop.) In combination with the new season’s required Midnight Blues pattern dance (a sequence of pre-choreographed steps that all the teams had to use in their program) this year’s short dances were shaping up to be a mishmash of conflicting musical styles. 

“I must admit, I’m rather jealous,” Alice said to Robin and Regina when they arrived at Cyrus’s dance studio. “My coaches were dead set against hip hop. They wouldn’t even entertain the notion.”

“From what I’ve heard, the top teams seem to be split down the middle between hip hop and swing,” Regina said. She’d been doing her research on the competition as usual. “It will be interesting to see how the international judges deal the culture clash.”

Alice’s eyes darted around nervously and when she spoke again, her voice was hushed. “At least the officials gave you the go ahead. I heard through the grapevine that Swan and Jones’s hip hop program got the boot.”

Regina gasped. “You’re kidding.”

Alice nodded, grimacing as she did. “They’re redoing the whole thing. Going for swing instead of hip hop. Looks like your Battle of the Hamiltons is already down from three to two.”

I can live with that, Regina thought to herself as she and Robin followed Alice into the bright and airy studio lobby. Too bad for Swan and Jones though. I can’t imagine having to redo a program this late in the game. And they’re assigned to the first event on the Grand Prix on top of it. What rotten luck. 

Cyrus greeted them when they reached the practice room. Regina had not met him before, but she’d seen pictures of him on Alice’s Instagram feed. He was a year or two younger than Regina and embodied the phrase tall, dark and handsome. They’re cute together, Regina thought as Cyrus and Alice sneaked a quick embrace before the lesson started. Alice did well for herself. Poor Jefferson must be kicking himself. The thought gave her a wicked jolt of glee that she quickly dampened. No good would come from thinking ill of the competition. She couldn’t afford the bad karma.  
Cyrus proved to be a capable dancer and a good teacher. Regina, who excelled in all styles of dance, found herself able to keep up to the energetic young man quite easily. Robin was another story. As much as he excelled at moving on the ice, his hip hop floor dancing left something to be desired. Fortunately for him, Cyrus was a patient teacher. “I know this type of movement doesn’t mesh so easily with the type of movement you do on the ice,” Cyrus said, “but we’ll make a hip hop dancer out of you yet. Just you wait.” He winked at everyone in the mirror, but Regina suspected the gesture was purely for Alice’s benefit.

Robin gritted his teeth and repeated the sequence of moves again. Regina and Cyrus both kept a close eye on him as he progressed. He needs to relax his shoulders, Regina thought. He’s still got the posture of a figure skater. She snuck over behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing them forward and down. “You need to get down into the floor more,” she explained. “Use your knees. Don’t worry about your posture.”

“There you go,” Cyrus said encouragingly. “Listen to your partner. She knows what’s up.”

Robin smiled weakly at them in the studio mirror. He wasn’t used to being the centre of attention and he was starting to sweat from the nerves. Regina’s closeness didn’t help matters either: when she’d been dancing beside him, he’d had to force his gaze away from her taut reflection in the mirror but now, with her standing behind him and touching him, he feared for his sense of propriety. And when her hands moved from his shoulders to his hips, he nearly lost it entirely.

Regina ignored his discomfort and tightened her grip. “You’ve got white boy hips,” she informed him with a little laugh. “We’re going to have to exercise that out of you, you know. The Olympic season pattern dance is the rhumba. You’re going to have to learn how to move that cute butt of yours sooner or later.”

Robin wanted to faint from embarrassment but he forced himself to keep dancing. “I’m afraid my poor Caucasian bottom will never measure up to yours,” he teased, “but I will soldier on and do my best.”

Regina giggled, a pleasant sound. “True,” she admitted, glancing at her own backside in the mirror. “A little gift from my Puerto Rican ancestors.”

“They were very generous,” Robin said with an admiring sigh. 

Can you believe this guy? Regina thought to herself. He still manages to be charming even when he’s admiring my ass.

The extra lessons paid off in the end: run-throughs of the short dance grew easier with time and Ursula and John were very impressed by how much Robin improved in his hip hop expression. The free dance still felt raw and unpolished when they jetted off to Germany for their first tune-up event at the end of September, but Regina’s confidence had reasserted itself with a vengeance. “It feels strange being the only American team in the lineup,” she remarked to Robin upon their arrival in Obertsdorff. “I guess it’s all part of the overall strategy not to have us going up against any American teams until the Grand Prix Final.”

“It’s kind of nice that they’ve organized all the smaller pre-season events into this Challenger Series,” Robin said thoughtfully. “Gives us a good chance to get some more feedback from the international judges before the Grand Prix.”

“And a nice chance to compete in an easier field,” Regina added shrewdly. She didn’t want to get too excited, but Mills and Locksley were the highest-ranked team in the field at this event, which meant they stood a very good chance of winning. The thought of winning rattled around in her head as they fell into the familiar routine of checking into their hotel, acclimatizing to the timezone change and attending practice sessions, but she didn’t dare voice it out loud for fear of jinxing them. Confidence in sport is good, but overconfidence can lead to ruin, she reminded herself. Always know how good you are and always know your limitations.

But at least they would get through this event with friends on their side: Snow and David had been assigned to the pairs event and Regina was pleased to see that Snow was to be her roommate at the hotel. “Just like old times!” Snow squealed when she saw the room assignments. “I’ve missed living with you.”

Regina was amused by Snow’s admission. “Is that so? Is domestic bliss with your boyfriend-slash-skating partner not all it’s cracked up to be?” 

She was only teasing but Snow took full offense. “No! Of course not. I love living with David. He does his own laundry and everything.”

I’ll bet he doesn’t cook though, Regina thought to herself. But she was in no mood to argue. She missed living with Snow too. She missed the easy conversation and the sisterly relationship they’d cultivated over the years they’d been in each other’s lives. Living with Tink and Robin was wonderful in its own way, but Regina missed Snow more than she cared to admit.

“On the topic of boyfriends-slash-partners…” Snow trailed off and gave Regina a significant look. “Have you and Robin… you know…” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Oh Snowflake, Regina sighed inwardly. You’ve been living with a guy for the better part of a year and you can’t even say the S word in a conversation with one of your oldest friends. “If you’re talking about sex, then no. We haven’t yet.” She glared at Snow as if to say, don’t ask me that again. I don’t ask you about your love life. Mostly because I’m still astonished that a goody two-shoes like you has a love life. There’s something wrong with the universe if Snow White Snow Blanchard is getting more action than me.

But Snow was blissfully unaware of Regina’s discomfort with the topic. “Oh come on!” she exclaimed, flopping down dramatically on top of her suitcase. “You’re been together since Worlds and you still haven’t gotten yourself a piece of that fine English real estate?” 

Regina crossed her arms and surveyed her friend with disapproval. “I’m working on it, but we’re taking it slow,” she said in a perfectly reasonable voice. She’d be lying if she said she was disappointed with the slow pace, but her encounter with Sidney Glass at Champs Camp had spooked her. Robin had been understanding, but Regina could tell he was disappointed too. And it didn’t help that whenever Robin and Regina were both out of the house for an extended period of time, Tink would invite Elsa over. Everyone is getting more action than me, Regina realized. Kathryn, Snow, Tink… this is unacceptable. I need to do something about it.

But she still had to compete first. She didn’t need her libido distracting her when she had new programs to debut. But once the competition is over, she thought to herself, I’m going to make sure Robin knows exactly how much I appreciate him.

****

Robin had never competed at the Nebelhorn Trophy before, but Regina had been there twice with her previous partner. In order to calm his nerves before competing, Robin logged into the hotel’s free wifi and did a bit of research on the competition. He learned that Nebelhorn Trophy was first held in 1969 and was one of the oldest skating events in existence. He also learned that in the last decade, American ice dancers had won the event eight times out of ten. Well then. No pressure there, he thought. 

There was a chill in the air on the morning of the short dance but Robin went about his normal pre-competition routine without much thought of the weather. He still had doubts about his costume when he put it on: the fitted trousers weren’t out of the ordinary for him but the long jacket that accompanied them was a little cumbersome. Mal had done her best to make the costume as lightweight as possible while still conveying the revolutionary war era but it was a more elaborate costume than Robin was used to. 

But the costume was a big hit with everyone else. “I think you look very sharp,” Belle French remarked while the teams waited in the wings to be called to the ice. “You both do. The time period suits you guys.”

Belle and her partner Archie had chosen the swing option instead of hip hop and their costumes invoked the WWII era. Robin soon learned why: he didn’t recognize the music French and Hopper used for the pattern dance, but the swing section was set to the Puppini Sisters’ version of “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy”. “Catchy,” he said to himself as he watched from the sidelines. “I’m so glad they changed the rules this season and brought back the non-touching step sequence for the short dance.”

“I agree,” Regina whispered. “It adds a whole new dynamic to the program in my opinion. And it really works for those two. They look like Captain America and Peggy Carter out there.” She pulled her concentration away from the arena and looked him in the eye. “How are you feeling? Getting nervous?” Her eyes twinkled.

Robin shook his head. “Not nervous. Just a bit… overdressed. This costume has a shirt and a jacket. It’ll be a pain in the arse to dry clean.”

“But you look good in it,” Regina pointed out. “As for being overdressed…” she paused to give him an appreciate look over, “I think I might know a way to alleviate that particular problem after the competition is over.” 

She winked suggestively but said no more. Robin felt the blood rush to his face, casting an embarrassing blush over the proceedings. He’d always suspected his Regina was a bit naughty. Hopefully soon he’d find out how much.

Their names were called and it was as if a switch was being flipped. Regina and Robin went from being an ordinary couple to being Mills and Locksley, ice dancers extraordinaire. They skated to centre ice hand in hand, looking up appreciatively as the audience clapped and cheered for them. Despite the predominantly European crowd, a few American flags were being waved. Nice, Robin thought. We’ve developed quite a following in the last year. Time to give the people what they came for.

They struck their back-to-back opening pose and waited for the music to start. “Ready?” Regina whispered.

“Always,” Robin responded as the opening notes of “Helpless” started to play. 

Ursula’s choreography had what she called a “meet cute” at the beginning of the program where Regina and Robin’s characters met for the first time at a ball, danced together and fell in love. “If everyone has to do the same damn pattern dance, then we can at least give it a story,” Ursula had explained. Learning the Midnight Blues pattern dance had taken months of painstaking practice, but it paid off in spades: Mills and Locksley powered through the opening portion of the dance with expert precision. From his place by her side, Robin could see Regina keeping time with the music in her head and making sure to hit the specific movements at just the right places in the music. “Helpless” had an upbeat tempo, which made it a challenge to skate to, but it would be all the more impressive if they pulled it off. And from the sound of the audience, they were pulling it off today.

Ursula, who always wanted her team to stand out from the pack, took another choreographic risk by placing the lift in the middle of the program. “Everyone else does the lift at the end of the short dance. But we’re not going to be like everyone else this season. We paid our dues last year by going the traditional route. This season we have to develop a style of our own.” Ursula’s wise words echoed in Robin’s head as he took Regina up into the lift. It was the same rotational lift they’d used in last year’s free dance and it always got a big cheer from the audience and a high grade of execution mark from the judges. 

The music changed after the lift from the romantic tones of “Helpless” to the hip hop beat of “The Schuyler Sisters”. Ursula’s choreography placed a stationary dance sequence just after the change in music to signify the change in dance styles. Robin still didn’t feel completely comfortable in the hip hop section so until he got up to speed, they were relying on Regina to sell the choreography and she did a beautiful job. Her movements were sharp, accenting the beats of the music and the rap lyrics at the beginning of the song. With no time to breathe, the skaters jumped straight into the twizzle sequence when the sisters started singing, matching their turns word for word with the melody. Robin still got nervous on the twizzles but he powered through them. He still had bigger fish to fry.

The riskiest element was the non-touching step sequence. The two skaters had to skate the same steps side-by-side without touching, maintaining a reasonable distance but not moving too far apart or too close together. And in perfect unison. To go with the hip hop theme, Ursula had infused hip hop moves into the step sequence itself. Robin kept his eyes glued to Regina the entire time to make sure she didn’t skate too far away from him. He prayed that the judges’ eyes would be drawn to her and not him. 

From there the rest of the program was filler. They breezed through the final steps, circling playfully around each other before coming together at the end of the music. Robin was huffing and puffing from powering through the unfamiliar choreography but he felt elated. The program was still rough around the edges but they’d gotten through it. It would only get easier from here.

Robin’s worries about his lack of hip hop ability were pushed aside when the marks came up. Their score was in the mid-sixties: a solid start to the season with plenty of room to grow. It was also the highest score of the day. French and Hopper, the team in second place, barely scored over 60 by comparison. “Looks like you finally learned how to work those white boy hips,” Regina teased after they left the rink.

“Then why do I still feel like I’m rubbish with this dance style?” Robin wondered out loud. 

Regina had no intention of joining Robin’s pity party. “You only feel that way because it’s a new style of dance for you. Give it another month or so and you’ll feel more confident. We did well today. Remember last season? We scored 55 at our first competition last season. We’re already miles ahead of where we were then.”

She’s right again, he thought fondly. Just as she always is. “So,” he said in a would-be casual voice, “that thing you mentioned earlier about being overdressed…” he trailed off and eyed her hopefully.

“Let’s just get through the free dance tomorrow,” Regina insisted. “Then we’ll see.”


	4. Victory Celebrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First attempt at a ~sexy chapter. *embarrassed face*

93.44.

Such an insignificant number without any context. 93. Ninety-three. What did it even mean? And what help was a decimal unless you could round it up?

Regina Mills was angry.

She hadn’t been angry after a competition in years. The emotion felt foreign to her now when she had so many other things to be happy about. But it the feeling crept in nonetheless, picking at her confidence and throwing her into spirals of doubt and fear. She tried to push the feeling, and the uncomfortable thoughts that went with it, away into the abyss but the abyss stared back and her, threatening to swallow her whole.

“93 is a perfectly respectable score for a pre-season event,” Ursula said after the protocols came out. “We lost points on the technical base value, but all of that can be fixed. If we’d lost marks on the artistic side of the equation, we’d have a much bigger problem on our hands.”

“We scored just under 100 at Worlds though,” Robin lamented. 

“After an entire season’s work,” Ursula reminded him. “93 is a good base. We can build up from there. Try not to let it get to you.”

Regina continued to grumble but Ursula wasn’t having it. “You two just won your first competition! Stop feeling sorry for yourselves and go celebrate.”

Is this how winning is supposed to feel? Robin wondered. Ursula said the problems were fixable. We were awarded a level 3 for the spin and one of the new lifts. Level 4 is the highest level of difficulty a skater can earn. We just have to clean up those elements and bring them up to level 4. The major concern is the step sequence that only earned us a level 2. This is what’s pushing Regina’s ire over the edge. She probably thinks she spun out on that one turn. And maybe she did. But we just have to practice more and soon it will be old hat. “This may not be our best performance, but we did win in the end,” he said at last. “And once we clean up the technical blips this won’t be the last medal we win this season.” 

Regina took a different point of view. “When I find the person who invented the levels of difficultly, I will make him suffer,” she muttered darkly.

“I’m sure you will,” Robin said soothingly. “But we did win. And I’m choosing to be happy with that for now.”

When he smiled at her Regina felt her anger melt away. She even managed to grind out a weak smile in response. “Our first win together. Ursula’s right. We should be celebrating.” 

“Let’s have dinner,” Robin suggested. “I’m told the hotel restaurant is excellent.”

Regina’s smile brightened a fraction, but when they got to the restaurant her hunger failed her. She picked at her chicken Caesar salad while Robin ate with gusto and her lack of appetite didn’t go unnoticed. “Are you sure you don’t want anything for later?” Robin pressed her. “I know how you get.”

“I’ll be fine,” Regina insisted. “I have some snacks in my hotel room in case I get peckish. And speaking of hotel rooms… how would you like to accompany me back to mine?” Despite her conflicting emotions, she hadn’t managed to stave off her more amorous feelings either. What I need is a distraction, she thought as they rode the elevator up to the eighth floor. Luckily for me, we could both use one. Not wanting to have another awkward incident like at Champs Camp, Regina texted Snow and coyly suggested that she spend the night at David’s. With that out of the way, Regina sat down on her hotel bed and patted the spot next to her. “Take a load off,” she said with an air of innocence. Robin moved hesitantly toward the bed. He could tell she was up to something. His slow gait said it all. “I won’t bite,” she added playfully. “Unless you’re into that.”

Robin smiled and sat down. “Well then.” His spirits were already on an uptick thanks to her carefully measured flirting. “If I may be so bold as to ask… what exactly are you into?”

Regina cocked her head, pretending to be deep in thought. “Well, for one thing…” she leaned closer and took his face in her hands, “I’m into you,” she said in a low, suggestive voice as she closed the distance between them with a kiss.

Robin kissed her back softly, trailing one hand up to cup the back of her head and stroke her hair. Her hair had gotten longer in the year that they’d been skating together: it used to be just past her shoulders but now it fell partway down her back in a waterfall of loose waves. Sometimes she straightened it, but in the summer she hadn’t bothered. No amount of product could keep her wild locks tamed. Even now in late September she’d continued to embrace her hair’s natural texture. Robin seemed to appreciate her hair either way. He was constantly weaving his fingers through her tresses and brushing stray strands out of her eyes. “I’ve always liked brunettes,” he murmured, with his lips still hovering above her own. 

Regina pretended to pout. “Is that the only thing you like about me?” 

“Heavens no.” Robin looked scandalized by the notion. “You have… many attractive attributes,” he added as his eyes skimmed hopefully over her figure.

Regina pretended not to know what he meant. Flirting and teasing him was half the fun, after all. And Robin gave as good as he got. “Such as?” she prompted with a flutter of her eyelashes.

Robin was no fool. He knew exactly where she was leading him. And oh what fun it was to be led by her. “You have rather lovely eyes,” he remarked, catching her dark gaze with his own. “I always know what you’re thinking when I can see your eyes, milady.”

Why was I angry a few hours ago? Regina wondered as Robin leaned in for another kiss. She couldn’t remember, not now that his lips were against hers and he’d complimented her plain brown eyes. “But they’re just… brown,” she murmured when he pulled away again.

Robin shook his head. “They’re dark and mysterious.” He traced a finger along her cheekbone and smiled. “And sexy. I happen to like that.”

He’s even better at this teasing game than I am, she thought as a feather light kiss landed on her cheek. If she intended to win this battle, she’d need all the tools in her arsenal. She still had a few tricks up her sleeve she knew he’d appreciate. “What else do you like?” She drew the words out into a low, sexy drawl that made his eyes light up.

Robin considered her. What a temptress she was, all honeyed words and sly glances. “I’d be terribly remiss if I didn’t mention your lips,” he continued. His gaze purposefully dropped to the area in question and he traced a finger across her lower lip, relishing its softness. “Especially since you’re such a good kisser.”

As if to prove how good a kisser she was, Regina shifted closer and all but devoured him with her lips. He let out a groan of surprise but he got over the shock quickly enough, pulling her into his lap and anchoring her in place with one hand on her hip. “Easy there love,” he murmured when she finally let him catch his breath. “We’ve got all evening for that.”

She huffed a little bit and tried to settle herself more comfortably on his knee. His legs were toned and muscular – a side effect from training routines that built up lower body muscle. Her own legs, now draped over his, were similarly shapely. But his bony knees took away from the overall package. Sensing her discomfort, Robin eased her back toward the pillows and laid down on his side, facing her “That’s more comfortable, isn’t it?”

“Much better,” she agreed. “So… are you going to keep talking about my best attributes or are we going to shamelessly make out?”

“Hmm.” Robin considered her offer. “How about a bit of both?” His eyes were playful, hopeful. “I haven’t even spoken about your cute nose yet.” He kissed her there, soft and subtle. “Or your neck.” He moved there next, his lips barely brushing her soft skin as she let out a little whimper. “Or perhaps…” his gaze dropped her to chest and her heart started to pound. “Your cleavage is rather impressive too,” he confessed as his eyes drank in the skin exposed by her v-neck. 

Regina was suddenly very pleased with herself that she’d had the foresight to put on a fitted t-shirt and a nice bra after changing out of her costume. “It’s just because I’m lying on my side,” she tried to joke. “Pushes everything closer together.” She slid a little closer to him to prove her point. 

Robin sighed and draped his free arm around her slender waist. He let his fingers spread out against her spine and she snuggled up against his chest in response. “You’re stunning,” he whispered as his nimble fingers trailed up and down her back. “Stunning in every way,” he added coyly when his hand paused at the small of her back. There was an inch of exposed skin between the hem of Regina’s t-short and the waistband of her leggings. Robin tested the spot and she rewarded him with a soft gasp. “And of course your skin is lovely and soft too,” he murmured appreciatively. His hand ached to slide up underneath that thin t-shirt of hers and admire more, to feel more, to appreciate more of her. Or perhaps, he considered, to get rid of that shirt entirely. 

But Regina was reading his mind, or at least reading the hopeful expression on his face. She had the t-shirt up halfway off before Robin could even blink, casually tossing it aside on the mattress to showcase the purple bra she had on underneath. She shrugged as if to say, it’s no big deal. We share a laundry machine, it’s not as if you haven’t seen my undergarments before. Robin thought otherwise. “You’re a vision,” he whispered reverently. “Now come here. I haven’t finished kissing you yet.”

When their lips met again it was not with the slow teasing of a couple still getting to know each other, but with the pent of passion of soon-to-be lovers. Robin’s fingers tangled in Regina’s hair as she moved over him, pressing his back to the mattress and his head into the deep softness of the pillow. Though he led them on the ice, Robin was more than happy to let Regina take the lead in the bedroom. She straddled him easily, shapely thighs pressed suggestively against his as she sat up on top of him and pulled him up to face her, not even pausing for breath or breaking the kiss. His hands stretched out to explore, caressing shoulders and stroking skin, exploring and caressing before finally settling on her hips. “I hope you’re not stopping there,” she murmured when she finally disengaged from his insistent kisses. “I know you’ve been dying to get your hands on me,” she added with a suggestive flash of her dark eyes.

That was all the invitation Robin needed. So long had she tempted him with flirtatious looks, teasing comments and tight trousers that showed off her perfectly shaped bottom. He’d often imagined what it would be like to touch her, to trace his fingers over every curve and valley of her body, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer perfection of the real thing. His palms slid slowly down her backside, appreciating every inch until he reached the bottom and gave her the lightest of squeezes for good measure. Regina sighed contentedly and let her head loll to the side in response. “As good as you imagined?” she teased, folding her hands over his to keep him where she wanted him. 

“Mmm.” He leaned up to kiss her again before responding. “Better.”

He felt her lips smirk against his as she slid even closer and pressed herself suggestively against him. She caught his eye, seeking permission to keep going – permission he was more than happy to grant. His jeans were starting to grow tight and it hadn’t escaped her notice. “We’ll have to do something about that,” she pointed out, rubbing up against him as she spoke. Robin groaned and anchored his hands on her hips again, guiding her to the place he needed her. “That’s better,” she cooed as he pushed up against her to match the slow pace she’d already set. “That’s perfect, actually. I haven’t done this since I was in high school.”

Robin chuckled softly and held her still long enough to pull his own shirt off before he started to move with her. He’d been a teenager himself when he’d discovered the simple pleasure of what could happen when two like-minded people enjoyed each other’s bodies in the manner they were engaged in now. As a young adult, he’d learned to appreciate what such encounters could lead to, if a girl was ready and willing. And Regina was very willing. Once they settled into a comfortable rhythm, she picked up the pace gradually and varied her movements in ways that left them both gasping and sighing. 

It’s been too long, Regina thought blissfully as she continued to grind against him. Far too long since she’d enjoyed someone else’s body like this and permitted hers to be enjoyed in return. Not since Daniel in high school or the other boy she’d hooked up with a few times during the one semester she’d taken a few courses at the college campus. She’d fallen into such a steady, easy rhythm with Robin that she’d almost forgotten how out of practice she was. Robin didn’t seem to mind: he was nuzzling away at the side of her neck, kissing and tasting, murmuring encouragement in her ear all the while. This won’t take long at all, she realized. Already the pleasure was starting to build up in her core. 

It was soon – all too soon for his liking – that Regina’s movements became frantic and desperate and her breathing grew shallow. Robin sensed her anticipation and picked up the pace. “Are you close?” he whispered, lips brushing her earlobe ever so lightly. “What do you need to finish?”

Regina’s chest heaved from the effort and it took all the restraint Robin possessed not to stare at her breasts. One strap of her bra had shimmied its way down her shoulder and there was a light sheen of sweat coating both their bodies. “I need your hands,” she begged, already trying down to push them away from her hips and down toward her thighs. Sensing her meaning, Robin reached one hand back around to cup her rear while wriggling the other one between her legs. Regina gave him a nudge in the right direction, guiding his hand with her own until his fingers found the right spot. From there it didn’t take much: she continued to writhe on top of him while he rubbed the sensitive spot until she let out a moan that nearly undid him. “Don’t stop,” she gasped, rocking against his hand desperately. “I’m so close, please don’t stop…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, picking up the pace again to push her over the edge. Robin let out a gasp of his own when she gripped his shoulder and her nails bit into his skin. 

“Yes!” she cried out. It was the last coherent thing she said before the pleasure crept up and spread out over her and words devolved into satisfied moans and oh’s as she rode out her orgasm to its peak. She went still against him when it was over, breathing heavily as she fell forward onto his chest and he pulled her down into his arms again. Robin’s pants had grown uncomfortably tight and while Regina was still reveling from her experience, he wasted no time getting his zipper down and finishing the job for herself. He let out a satisfied grunt of his own a minute later and got up to clean off his hands. 

“Aw,” Regina groaned when she finally returned to her senses and saw that he’d finished without her. “I was going to help you with that.” Her disappointed gaze dropped to his unbuttoned fly. He’d felt so good pressed against her. After his fingers had worked their magic with her, it seemed only fair to take him in hand and return the favour.

“No need,” he insisted with a little shake of his head and a satisfied smile. “That was all for you.”

Regina pouted and propped herself up on an elbow. “It won’t kill you to let me do things for you every now and then,” she reminded him in a flirtatious low voice.

Robin shook his head. “Quite the contrary,” he said. “I like doing things for you. And you’ve done plenty for me.”

How can he be this sweet, she wondered, and how did I get this lucky to find a man who was so considerate? In her limited experience, most men weren’t. They didn’t do things without expecting something in return. “What exactly do I do for you?” she inquired, keeping her voice playful to disguise the slight twinge of worry.

Always fishing for compliments, he observed. And there’s something else under the surface as well. Better give the lady what she wants. “The vision and the feel of you gyrating on top of me was rather nice,” he admitted with another appreciative sweep of his eyes over her body. “I’ll won’t be forgetting that anytime soon.” 

Satisfied with his answer, Regina curled up in his arms again. “Good. I do aim to please,” she murmured against his shoulder. She let her lips brush the spot where her nails had scraped him earlier, teasingly kissing it better.

“Hmm.” Robin let his hand drift down her back until it rested on top of her bottom once again. “I’ll hold you to that, my love.”

Regina giggled and pushed herself up into his willing hand. Of course he expected a little something in return. But he’d have to wait. “I’m counting on it. But not now. I’m still tired from competing and we’ll both be in need of a massage in the morning.” 

Robin sighed deeply, enjoying the feel of her under his hand. “I could give you a massage now,” he suggested.

“Nope.” She shook her head. Any further activity would be on her terms. “We’ve had enough exercise for one day. You may feel fine, but you’ll be sore in the morning after competing and fooling around.”

“Ah,” Robin sighed in defeat. “Fair point.” Despite the nice few hours of post-competition cool-down and dinner, his joints and his legs would undoubtedly be stiff in the morning. “This sort of exercise isn’t in our usual training regimen,” he lamented. “But it was very enjoyable. We should… try it again sometime,” he added hopefully.

Regina considered this. He was leaving it up to her again. Every important decision they’d ever made, on or off the ice, always came down to her choice. It started the day of their tryout and after all this time, Robin still deferred to her. “Maybe we’ll have to change up our routine to make room for it,” she teased. “I’m sure I could free up a little time for you. If you want to, I mean.” 

Robin laughed again and pulled her back into his arms. “What man in his right mind would say no to such an enticing offer from a lady as lovely as yourself?” He felt her shoulders stiffen within his embrace and instantly he knew he’d said the wrong thing. Damn it, he cursed internally. Everything was going to well and then I had to open my big mouth. But the moment passed: she relaxed against him again and he let out a soft exhale of relief. 

“I never told you why I broke up with my last two boyfriends,” she mumbled reluctantly. “It was because I didn’t have enough time to date. I was always exhausted after competitions and training… they didn’t love me enough to put up with my not being there all the time. They didn’t understand how important skating was to me. So I had to choose: skating or love. And it was always an easy choice.” The words tumbled from her lips more bluntly than she’d intended. She felt a tear prickling in the corner of her eye but she refused to let it fall. This was the only thing – the last sliver of fear that kept her from fully committing to him, to them. “Please promise me you’ll never make me choose,” she said softy. Her voice wavered, making her sound younger. 

Hating to see her so vulnerable, Robin shook his head and reached out to cup her face in his free hand once again. “I could never,” he said in a tone more serious than any he’d used before. “The one advantage to dating your partner is that we’re in this together. We’ll both have to battle exhaustion and not having enough time, but we can manage. We can make it work if we both care enough about each other and respect each other.”

Regina shivered despite still being pressed up against his warmth. “I know,” she whispered. “I just wanted to make sure…”

Robin kissed her again: softly this time, without the sensual frenzy of earlier in the evening, but with the calm affection of a man secure in his feelings for the woman he loved. “I’m mad about you,” he said earnestly. He wasn’t ready to use the word love yet for fear of frightening her with its finality. But he’d have to tell her soon. All in good time, he told himself. Maybe not on a night when she’d already opened up and let herself be vulnerable. You’ll only spook her again. So instead he said, “You will never not be enough for me, Regina. I couldn’t choose between you or skating either. You are skating. It’s a part of you as much as it’s a part of me.”

He’s right, she marvelled. He’s always right. She’d known it too, she just needed to hear him say it out loud. The weight lifted off of her and floated away, the fear finally leaving her. “You always know what to say,” she murmured as she allowed herself to relax again. “And you know I’m… how did you put it? I’m mad about you too.” She snuck a glance at his face and he was grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t look so smug. I never would have let you put your hands all over me if I wasn’t.” She frowned at him, trying to look stern and in control but he only smiled more.

“I know,” he said with a contented sigh. “You’re the boss, Regina. I’m just along for the ride.”

Her eyes lit up at this pronouncement. “Don’t worry,” she said soothingly. “The ride will be worth the wait.”

Confident – I like it, he thought. “I’m sure it will be,” he responded. “You let me know when you want that ride,” he added. “I’ll be waiting.”


	5. Skate Canada

After the competition in Germany, Mills and Locksley went back to doing what they did best: training and reworking their programs. Once the coaches broke down the technical problems in the free dance, it was easier for the skaters to see where they needed to improve. The spin and lift that were downgraded got new pose variations to increase the difficulty. The step sequence ended up not being altered at all: Regina had spun out on one of her turns and that was what bumped them down to the lower level of difficulty. Regina put the mistake behind her as best as she could. It helped to see some of the competition have rough outings at their tune-up events too. Marvella and Gardiner bungled the twizzles at their first event and Swan and Jones’s new short dance looked very rough at its first outing. It reminded Regina that everyone looked rusty before the Grand Prix. It was nothing to worry about – yet. 

The Canadian Grand Prix was the next stop on Mills and Locksley’s competitive circuit. The night before their flight, the telephone rang just after 9 in the evening. Regina was perturbed before she even picked it up. Hardly anyone ever called on the landline anymore aside from telemarketers and they never called this late. They’d even been debating giving up the landline entirely to save money. “Hello,” she answered in a less than hospitable voice. 

“Regina! I’m so glad I caught you.” The voice on the other end of the line was male and cloyingly chipper. “I was hoping to have a word before your first Grand Prix of the season.”

Who the hell is this? She wondered, stifling a yawn. “Um… who’s calling?” 

The man on the other end of the line made a noise of disbelief. “It’s Sidney! From the Ice Mirror? I know you haven’t forgotten me.”

Regina groaned inwardly. How could she forget the terrible article he’d written or his creepy attitude at Champs Camp? Regina cleared her throat, trying to maintain her composure. “How did you get this number?” she inquired. We’re definitely getting rid of the landline, she added to herself. I don’t need weird journalists calling me at all hours.

“Mr. Gold gave it to me,” Sidney said nonchalantly. “I’m doing a piece on the US skaters competing north of the border. I was wondering if you could spare a quote or two. My readers love hearing from you.”

Regina gritted her teeth and considered her options. She wasn’t one to turn down good press, but her distrust (and distaste) for Sidney won out. “No, thank you. I have no comment at this time.” And I’d appreciate it if you never called again, she added to herself. The Ice Mirror is nothing more than a rag, anyway. Surely I can get better mentions from a more competent journalist. I’ll just have to find one first.

Sidney mumbled a halfhearted protest but Regina cut him off. “If that’s all Mr. Glass, I need to hang up now. I have an early flight to catch and I need to be on my game.”

“Of course!” Sidney babbled apologetically. “Have a good night!”

He hung up before Regina had a chance to say anything more, leaving her fuming. I’ll never let that man have the last word again, she vowed. The last thing I need is some moron from the press throwing me off my game.

She resolved to put her latest interaction with Sidney out of her mind and get a good night’s sleep. The flight was early but short and there was no timezone change to contend with. After touching down on Canadian soil – which was a few degrees colder than Michigan now that October was nearing its end – the skaters and their coaches took a quick bus ride into Mississauga, the site of the competition. 

“I thought this was supposed to be the Great White North,” Robin joked as they arrived at their hotel in the city’s downtown area. “There isn’t even any snow on the ground yet.”

Regina giggled and took his hand once they were alone on the elevator. “We’re only in Southern Ontario,” she chided him. “It doesn’t get that much colder here than it does where we live. They usually don’t see snow until November.”

From there it was the usual pre-competition routine: off-ice conditioning, practice sessions and interviews with the local media. The Canadian skaters got the lion’s share of the attention, but Mills and Locksley’s win in Germany had raised their profile. Since ice dance was more popular in Canada than it was in the States, Regina found it much easier to talk to the Canadian press than to talk to Sidney Glass. By the time the competition was set to start, she felt calm, collected and in control. 

Robin was in awe of her composure. His own nerves flared up again the night before the short dance and his woke up with nervous pains in his stomach. A proper breakfast chased the nerves away but he felt far less certain of himself before they went out for the warmup. 

“You’re not still brooding about the Battle of the Hamiltons I hope,” Regina whispered as they stood by the boards watching the other skaters whip around the rink. “I spoke to Nimue LeFay yesterday and they’re using different songs than we are. People who don’t know the musical won’t even know…” An opening formed in the scrum of skaters on the ice and they surged forward to take it. “Or is it about the hip hop again? I thought you looked great in our last lesson.”

“Just pre-competition nerves,” Robin reassured her. “You know how I get.”

Regina smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry,” she said soothingly. “I know how to help you relax after a competition now.” Her eyes twinkled suggestively and Robin finally smiled again. Training hadn’t left them with much time for extra-curricular activities in the lead up to the Grand Prix, but they were slowly easing their way into a more physical relationship since their last competition. So far it was just a bit of fooling around when Tink was either out of the house or otherwise occupied, but things were finally heating up. And it was a great stress reliever. 

The warmup ended and the skaters returned to the holding area to await their turns. With their growing international reputation and higher world standing, Mills and Locksley would be the penultimate skaters in the final flight. A seasoned middle-of-the-pack Russian team went out first, followed by the peppy young team from Italy and the second-ranked Canadians Nimue LeFay and Merlin Ambrose. Their Hamilton program used “My Shot” for the pattern dance and “Yorktown” for the hip hop section. To Regina’s critical eye, LeFay and Ambrose interpreted the music well, but the choreography wasn’t as difficult as the top teams’. Robin enjoyed the program as pure entertainment: the “Yorktown” section and the non-touching step sequence were especially good. It was the pattern dance that let them down: after having it drilled into their heads for the last few months, Regina’s unflinching gaze spotted a few incorrect steps and missed key points from the Canadians.

“It will be interesting to see the protocols afterward,” she said in an undertone to Ursula before the marks came up. “I think LeFay missed a step partway through.”

Ursula was in no mood to speculate. “Just make sure you don’t miss it,” she said, just as a cheer went up among the Canadian fans. “Now get going. Show them the real Hamilton – American style.”

The extra time spent working with Cyrus in the dance studio was an immense help for Robin. Just as Regina predicted in the summer, a few more months’ work on the hip hop section of the dance had improved Robin’s abilities and his confidence. They breezed through the dance, hitting the pattern with well-timed precision, nailing the lift, staying on track in the twizzles and finishing with the no-touching step sequence. The Canadian audience showed their appreciation with enthusiastic applause: though the Canadians cheered loudest for their own, they were appreciative of excellent skating no matter where the competitor was from. Mills and Locksley outscored LeFay and Ambrose easily but there was still one team to come: the reigning Canadian and World Champions Ruby Lucas and August Booth.

From the screens backstage, one of the television cameras zoomed in on an older grey-haired woman by the boards as Lucas and Booth took to the ice. “I think that’s Ruby’s grandmother – she’s one of their coaches,” Regina said to Robin. 

Robin squinted at the screen. “She looks intense. Definitely not the sort of grandmother who bakes cookies.”

Definitely not, Regina thought as Lucas and Booth started their routine. She’s the sort of grandmother who helps make champions. She felt a twinge of sadness that her own grandparents on both sides were already departed. But soon her attention was captured by Lucas and Booth’s short dance instead. Lucas and Booth had also opted to take the risk and try hip hop, choosing music from Canadian artist The Weeknd as their soundtrack. With their sharp, intricate movements and ingrained musicality, it was easy to see why Lucas and Booth were World Champions. They had both the technical prowess that pleased the judges and the artistic sensibility that won over the fans. And as much as Mills and Locksley had improved in their one year together, they still had a lot of growing to do before they were in a league of a team like Lucas and Booth.

They were so good that Regina and Robin had nothing but heartfelt appreciation for the Canadians instead of the competitive jealousy they could have felt for a team of equal ability. When asked about it at the post-short dance press conference, Regina was very diplomatic: “Of course we’re proud of how we skated today and to share the ice with such great competitors,” she said into the microphone. Press conferences were a deadly dance of their own. The press always looked for an opening to get a skater to say how they really felt. Regina, Robin and their American teammates had all been schooled on how to answer politely and not give away more information than they needed to. Ursula’s advice on press conferences was to smile, speak only when spoken to and not say more than necessary. “Be like CJ Cregg on The West Wing,” Ursula would say. “Phrase your words carefully.” Regina followed this advice to the letter, much to Robin’s amusement. He still hadn’t watched The West Wing, so the reference to its famous press secretary was lost on him.

Now that Mills and Locksley were a team on the rise, there would be more press conferences in the future. The majority of the questions were directed at Lucas and Booth, the leaders after the short dance. The main topic of conversation today was the required rhythms for the short dance. “Of course it’s always a creative risk when there’s a new dance style being introduced, but we have to take risks every now and then if we want the sport to keep evolving into a new era,” Ruby said, a vision of politeness and eloquence. Her grandmother must have given her the same media coaching Ursula gave us, Regina thought shrewdly. 

“What about you, Miss Mills?” one of the reporters asked. “How do you and Mr. Locksley feel about the new rhythms and rule changes this season?”

Regina and Robin exchanged a look and he gestured to the microphone, indicating that she should be the one to answer. “I think Ruby phrased it perfectly.” Regina smiled and nodded down the table to her competitor. “If no one takes any risks at all, the sport of ice dance can’t evolve and grow. Someone has to be a pioneer and try new things: look at all the teams here.” She gestured down the row at Lucas and Booth on her left and LeFay and Ambrose on her right. “We all chose to do hip hop this year, but we all interpreted that theme in different ways.”

Robin, who had been nodding along, took up the conversation. “Regina’s right. Ourselves and LeFay and Ambrose took our inspiration from popular culture and even there, we chose different songs from the same musical and ended up with two very different programs. And Lucas and Booth were able to showcase their heritage by using music from a Canadian hip hop artist. It’s an exciting time for ice dance right now and my partner and I are pleased to share the stage with such seasoned competitors.”

The press seemed satisfied with their answers, but one journalist in the front row was staring at his notes and frowning. “One last question for Miss Mills,” he spoke up and the moderator gave him the nod. Why are they singling me out today? Regina wondered. “I have a quote from an article published yesterday by my colleague Sidney Glass from the Ice Mirror.” Oh God, Regina thought. Not him again. “He seemed to think you weren’t very impressed by the Canadian competition and that you didn’t have much to say about them.”

Regina schooled her features into a mask of polite confusion and she took a deep breath before answering though her emotions burned beneath the surface. Nice try, Sidney. Sending one of your underlings to do your dirty work. “I’m not sure what you mean, since I didn’t give Mr. Glass any quotes,” she said airily. “But I certainly wouldn’t speak ill of any of my competitors, so I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

The moderator huffed and waved the man off before he could get another word in. “Are there any more real questions?” she asked, carefully emphasizing the world ‘real’. The man from the Ice Mirror looked abashed and didn’t say anything further. 

Thank God that’s over, Regina thought after the moderator called an end to the panel and the press and camera crews filed out. Robin leaned over and whispered, “Is that why Mr. Glass called the other night? He wanted a quote?”

Regina nodded. “I didn’t give him one. We was just fishing.”

“He’s tricky,” Ruby spoke up from down the table. “He caught me off guard a few years ago and took something I said out of context in an article. I still get people asking me if I really think I’m a better skater than my own partner.” She caught August Booth’s eye and they shared a laugh. “As if I’d admit that to the world, even if it was true.”

“He’s just a pot-stirrer,” Merlin added. “He was probably hoping to call you the Ice Queen again in the press. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“His magazine is a joke anyway,” Nimue chimed in. “No one actually reads the Ice Mirror anymore.”

Regina was buoyed by her competitor’s comments. It was a relief to know her distrust of Sidney Glass wasn’t just in her own head. He’ll have to try harder than that if he wants to make me the Ice Queen again, she thought viciously. Let him stew in the dregs of his sad little magazine. I’ve got better things to do than worry about a little bad press.

****

By the day of the free dance, all was forgotten. The morning practice session went well and Robin found himself looking forward to getting back on the ice. He couldn’t wait to show off the changes to the free dance and the new costumes: Regina’s navy blue dress, with its duotone corset-style bodice and layered skirts, had turned out even better than Mal promised. Robin’s costume was another shirt, jacket and trousers affair but he had to admit, the period-piece look suited him.

Regina agreed wholeheartedly with Robin’s line of thinking. “You look very handsome,” she assured him as they made their customary stroll arm-in-arm to the holding area. “Every inch the romantic hero.” Her eyes flitted appreciatively over him as she spoke.

Robin ducked his head to hide his flushed face. “Thank you. You look lovely yourself.” Now that her hair was a bit longer, Regina was able to sweep and twist it into an elaborate updo. 

“I have so many pins stuck in my head it’s a wonder I haven’t impaled myself,” Regina muttered. “And more hairspray that you would believe. I should be wearing a hazard sign on my back.”

Robin let out an exaggerated gasp, pretending to be scandalized. “Heavens no. It would clash horribly with your costume. Mal would have a heart attack.”

Regina giggled and nudged him with her hip. “We couldn’t have that, could we?” Their light mood stayed with them in the somber holding area – the other competitors paced anxiously with their game faces on in comparison – but nothing could spoil the mood today. All the time he’d spent worrying and ruminating had only taught Robin that worrying and ruminating weren’t useful or helpful once you stepped onto competitive ice. When Robin entered the zone, all of his other concerns fell away. Nothing mattered but the dance.

And what a dance it was. More complex and challenging than last year’s free dance, Mills and Locksley’s new free dance to the Stardust soundtrack proved to be a crowd pleaser for the Canadian audience. The program opened with the twizzles, a choreographic choice that placed one of Mills and Locksley’s toughest elements first. While their unison and ice coverage had improved after more than a year’s worth of hard work, Mills and Locksley’s twizzles still weren’t as fast as some of the top teams. But Ursula had come up with a solution to make her team’s admittedly average twizzles stand out by opting to do mirrored twizzles: instead of spinning side by side, Mills and Locksley performed the travelling spins face to face, each mirroring the other’s actions. It was harder to keep in synch this way but it looked more impressive when they pulled it off. “Trust me on this one,” Ursula had said months ago when she first choreographed the dance. “It’ll look great. It suits the whimsical part of the music too.”

Mills and Locksley breezed through the twizzles, earning an appreciative cheer from the audience who weren’t used to seeing the element performed that way. The next element was a lift and from there the rest of the program unfolded with ease: step sequence, second lift, spin, third lift, second step sequence and final lift. Regina’s internal calculator clicked away in her brain, tracking the elements and adding up a projected score in her head as they went. She was thinking technically today, leaving Robin to carry the program artistically. Robin felt fine: he disappeared so completely into character that he didn’t realize Regina was faltering. Guilt churned in her stomach when she hit her ending pose. She’d let herself turn into a robot doing the routine on autopilot. Just when Robin finally let go of his worries, Regina founds hers instead. Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes and she turned away instinctively so Robin couldn’t see. Not now, she begged. I can’t cry now in front of all these people… oh God, what have I done?

But Robin didn’t need to see Regina’s face to know she was stressed. He skated up behind her, hands finding her waist, keeping her steady as the crowd cheered away in the stands above them. “You were brilliant,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled her into a quick hug before leading them to take their bows. 

“I was terrible,” she murmured, shaking her head ever so slightly and praying that no one noticed. “I got into my head too much.”

“Shh,” he whispered soothingly as they glided over to the boards. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He handed Regina her skate guards and waited for her to put them on. “This is a tough routine. You’re allowed to be a bit cautious until we’ve perfected it.”

His words only made her want to cry more. “No one ever won the Olympics by being cautious,” she whimpered, keeping her voice low so the television microphones wouldn’t pick it up. 

Robin took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers in an instant. “Then it’s a good thing we’re not at the Olympics yet,” he murmured, keeping his voice slow and steady. 

Regina let out a whimper of relief – somewhere between a sob and a giggle – and sat down heavily in the Kiss n Cry. The moment of doubt was already passing. She was too strong to let her imagination get the better of her. “I’m fine,” she whispered. It was that damn turn in the first step sequence – the one I spun out on at Nebelhorn Trophy, she realised. I was too cautious on it today and it effected my entire performance. She shook off the last of her doubts and plastered one of her signature game-face smiles on her face instead. The audience in the stands above them were still cheering, only now they were cheering in anticipation of seeing their hometown favourites Lucas and Booth. Mills and Locksley’s marks came up: 98 this time, a far cry from the 93 they earned in Germany. Regina was giddy with relief when she rose up on shaky legs to wave to the audience.

Robin saw her knees buckling and wrapped an arm around her waist for support. He held on to her on the quick journey backstage and helped her into the first chair available in the hallway. “Steady on, love.” He gave her an encouraging smile. He knew she wasn’t upset anymore, she was only starting to feel the adrenaline crash from competing. He got a bottle of water from John and made sure she took a healthy draught before trying to speak to her again. “You’re alright. Just a case of nerves.”

She nodded, affirming his suspicions. “I don’t know what came over me,” she admitted, shaking her head to clear it. “I just… freaked out during the step sequence and I couldn’t find my way back into the groove. I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize,” he insisted. “You still sold it beautifully.”

She smiled weakly. “I did?”

“You most certainly did. I don’t think anyone noticed you were nervous at all. You’re allowed to get nervous from time to time, Regina. You’re not a robot.”

His choice of words made her grimace. “I sure as hell felt like one.”

Robin sighed and shook his head. “Well, you certainly didn’t look like one. You always look beautiful on the ice.” He paused, watching her sip her water, marvelling at how strong she was even in the face of doubt. Time for a different tactic. “I could hardly keep my eyes off you,” he added, shifting from a tone of reassurance to a more playful one. 

Regina narrowed her eyes at him. “Trying to distract me with flirting?” She pretended to frown, but her mouth was fighting its way toward a smile. “That’s a good technique. Please continue.” She looked up at him expectantly.

Robin cleared his throat and let his eyes wander over her lovely face. Only a minute ago, her brow had been creased with worry and her eyes were watery, but now he could see a hint of that familiar sparkle again. “I like your hair that way – pins notwithstanding,” he said after a moment or so of contemplation and admiration. “But I would so like to run my fingers through it again,” he continued hopefully.

Catching his meaning, Regina was already reaching for the back of her updo. “Help me get the pins out,” she requested. “Maybe I lost my nerve because my hair was too tight.”

“Maybe,” he agreed as she turned around in her seat to allow him access. As pretty as Regina’s hair looked in its regal upsweep, the pins were criss-crossed and her hair was coiled in such a way that it had to be uncomfortable. It took at least ten minutes to remove every pin and untwist every lock of hair. When her hair was finally free, Robin let his fingers thread themselves through her locks, combing away the remnants of her hairspray. “I take it back,” he murmured as he brushed a few stray strands back from her forehead. “I like your hair down.”

Regina scoffed, knowing that her hair probably looked like a bird’s nest in need of a proper brushing. Leave it to Robin to think her hair looked better when it was messy than when it was coiffed. “I need to run back to the change room and comb this out before the medal ceremony,” she murmured, suddenly loath to leave his side. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, rising up slowly to test her tired legs. She didn’t sway this time: the moment of weakness had passed. She couldn’t resist giving Robin a quick kiss on the cheek to tide him over in her absence. As she walked away, she considered what they might do later. After the medal ceremony and the press conference, they’d have to get dinner. And after dinner…

Don’t get ahead of yourself, she scolded herself as she made the quick trip back up to the waiting area. The competition was over and Regina felt a fresh surge of guilt when she realized she’d missed Lucas and Booth’s free dance. She stopped dead in the middle of the hallway when she saw Ruby waving to her from the holding area. The Canadian girl was radiant after her victory, all shining eyes and rosy cheeks. “There you are!” Ruby exclaimed when Regina joined the group. “Are you okay?” 

Regina nodded weakly, wondering how high Lucas and Booth scored. “Adrenaline crash,” she managed to say as Robin took his place by her side again. “Sorry I didn’t stick around,” she added apologetically. “I was kind of out of it.”

Ruby waved her off, still breezy and basking in the glow of winning. “Happens to the best of us.” She smiled wolfishly when she noticed Robin’s arm twined around Regina’s waist. “If you’re feeling up to it, you two should come out to dinner with us after the press conference to celebrate!”

Regina nudged Robin’s hip with her own and caught his eye. “That sounds great! My partner’s been dying to sample some local Canadian cuisine,” she said, recalling their earlier conversation about poutine.  
Robin was touched. “You remembered,” he whispered in her ear after Lucas and Booth skated out to claim their medals.

Regina sighed happily and leaned into him. “It’s my sworn duty as your partner to remember these things.”

****

Regina’s foggy head cleared up after the rush of competition, the medal ceremony and the press conference passed. Once they got to the restaurant Ruby chose and she had some food in her stomach, Regina’s spirits lifted back up to their usual level. Ruby was an interesting girl: Regina had only spoken with her on a few brief occasions, but by the end of the night she found herself growing quite fond of the outspoken Canadian girl. Ruby’s partner August was another matter. He was polite, but also quiet and reserved. Even after an entire evening in his company Regina wasn’t sure what to make of him. I guess someone needs to be the quieter one in their partnership, she mused. Ruby’s got enough personality for the both of them.

Robin escorted Regina back to her hotel room afterwards but he didn’t stay this time: Regina’s roommate Ariel Benson was already tucked into bed with a book and a moisturizing mask on her face. “It’s a seaweed facial!” Ariel laughed when Robin gawked at her. Robin bid the ladies goodnight and ducked out, bemused by the sight. Feminine beauty regiments were still a mystery to him, even after living in the same house with two women. 

Regina waited until Ariel retreated to the bathroom and took out her cell phone. Just because I can’t have some quality alone time with my partner, doesn’t mean I can’t remind him how much I appreciate him, she thought wickedly as she typed out a quick text message:

Regina: hey you <3

Robin texted back with haste:

Robin: hello beautiful. I miss you already :(

Regina giggled triumphantly and sent another message:

Regina: I miss you too. We’ll have to do something about that when we get home ;)

Robin: I look forward to it :)

That should tide him over until I can get him alone, Regina thought as Ariel returned with her face scrubbed clean. Then he’ll be all mine. The thought thrilled her. She went to sleep that night with a smile on her face, a silver medal under her pillow and the hope of more victories to come.


	6. Balancing Acts

The next two weeks were busy ones for Mills and Locksley. Aside from their usual training, they also had an all-important double date with Tink and Elsa and an extra session with an outside choreographer to put the finishing touches on their new exhibition piece. And at the end of it all, they had their next Grand Prix in France to look forward to.

All of the on-ice excitement and off-ice plans left very little time for anything else, much to Robin’s dismay after Regina’s flirtatious text messages. But they still made the time for quick kisses between training sessions and sleepy cuddles on the couch in the living room at the end of the day. We just need to get through the busy period, he reminded himself. The Grand Prix Final and the Christmas holidays are just around the corner. We’ll have plenty of time to relax and enjoy each other’s company then.

So for the moment, Robin contented himself with sharing Regina’s company with others. Tink was nervous about their double date, so Robin took it upon himself to put her at ease. “I’m looking forward to getting to know Elsa better,” he said earnestly as he leaned against the island in the kitchen. “I hope she’s okay with us tagging along. I know she’s shy.”

Tink smiled nervously. “She’s much more talkative once you get to know her. And she likes you guys.” Tink danced nervously from foot to foot, her high heels clicking dully against the kitchen tiles. Elsa was due any minute and Tink’s nerves were at an all-time high. 

Regina breezed down the stairs, carrying her stilettos in one hand and a small clutch purse in the other. She looked stunning as usual in a crimson red dress with a plunging neckline. When she smiled, Robin temporarily forgot how to breathe. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured after she stepped into her shoes and was suddenly as tall as him. “You both do,” he added, not wanting poor Tink to feel left out. She was dolled up for the occasion in a form fitting black dress he was certain Elsa would appreciate. “I always look shabby next to you ladies,” he sighed, shuffling his own dress shoe-clad feet for emphasis.

“Nonsense,” Regina insisted. “You clean up very nicely.” But just to be sure, she gave the collar of his shirt a little tug and smoothed down the shoulder seems of his shirt, purposefully letting her hands linger for longer than they needed to. “There.” She nodded. “Now it’s perfect.”

Their flirting made Tink roll her eyes but she quickly returned to her state of panic when the doorbell rang to signal Elsa’s arrival. Regina slipped down the hall to answer the door, putting Tink out of her misery. She returned with Elsa hot on her heels and the two girls hugged bashfully before they all piled into Regina’s car and headed out for their night on the town. Robin claimed the front passenger seat, leaving Elsa and Tink to have the backseat all to themselves. The girls held hands through the entire car journey but they let go of each other the moment they stepped out of the car and into the parking lot of the restaurant. Robin felt a twinge of guilt, knowing it wasn’t easy for the girls to have to be subtle about their relationship. But even though Elsa and Tink did not touch in public, there was nothing subtle about the flirtatious glances they exchanged throughout the evening. They care about each other just as much as Regina and I care about each other, he came to realize. He’d worried about living with Regina and dating her at the same time while Tink was on her own, but it made him happy to know his other housemate had someone to care for her too.

Regina was fiercely protective of Tink and Elsa. Normally an evening out with other skaters would end up with pictures all over Regina’s Instagram account in an attempt to mitigate her Ice Queen image, but tonight her cellphone stayed in her purse. If Elsa wasn’t comfortable letting the world know she had a girlfriend, it was the least Regina could do to put her at ease. Elsa was already carrying all of Norway’s skating hopes and expectations on her shoulders. She didn’t need any more pressure than she was already under. Hopefully some day she’ll be more comfortable with herself, Regina hoped. Not just for her own sake but for Tink’s as well. But the world is still so intolerant. Things are changing, but they’re not changing fast enough.

When they got home, Tink and Elsa retreated to the living room and settled themselves on the loveseat. Regina took the hint and beckoned to Robin to follow her upstairs. “Let’s give them some room to breathe,” she said as she took Robin’s hand and guided him up to her room. “Besides, I think we need some alone time too,” she added shrewdly.

Robin took the bait. Before they reached the top of the stairs, he already had his free hand on Regina’s hip. When they reached the landing, Regina turned around and pulled him into a heated kiss and he responded in kind, backing her playfully toward the door of her bedroom. God, he’s good at that, she thought as his mouth moved away from her own and down toward her neck, catching the sensitive spot beneath her jaw as he went. Her breath hitched in her throat as his lips made their way down the column of her neck at a languid pace, taking his time to make sure no inch of skin went unkissed. He paused at the bottom, his eyes flicking back up toward hers triumphantly. Cheeky, she thought pleasantly as he started to nuzzle at her again. I’ll have to do something about that. “Stay with me tonight,” she whispered, already almost breathless from his insistent kisses and roaming hands. It’s been too long since we last shared a bed, she added to herself. I need to feel your arms around me again.

Robin paused his ministrations, letting a soft exhale of breath escape from his throat. Did she want to fool around again, or was it merely his company she was after? He must have looked bewildered because she was hasty to elaborate. “I’ve been dying for a proper cuddling,” she admitted, blushing all the while. 

Regina Mills did not blush as a rule and Robin found it adorable. He cupped her pink cheeks in his palms and smiled at her, giving his head a little shake. “I certainly wouldn’t say no to an evening with you curled up in my arms,” he admitted, his voice low and sensual. “Shall we?”

Regina actually giggled this time, suddenly as giddy as a high school girl who’d just been asked out by her long-time crush. “Get your PJs on first,” she reminded him. Last time he’d fallen asleep in his jeans and he’d been uncomfortable in the morning. “Then come find me,” she added, giving him another quick kiss for good measure. 

Little minx, he thought fondly as he quickly changed out of his date night attire and into his t-shirt and pyjama pants. When he returned to her room, Regina was similarly attired in a soft cotton tank top and capri-length pyjama bottoms. She’s so cute when she’s dressed down, he marveled as she sat down on her bed and beckoned him over. And sexy, he amended himself when she crawled over to kiss him again. Her hair, now loosed from its tight ponytail, tickled his face so he reached up to brush it back, letting his fingers trail through her locks, brushing the side of her neck as he lifted her hair and gently let it fall back behind her shoulders. The contact made her shiver and shift closer, hands settling on his shoulders as she pulled him back toward her pillows and under the covers. Robin followed, settling the blanket over them and cozying up by her side. 

She shivered again and pressed closer, the palm of one hand coming to rest against his heart. “That’s not fair – you always feel warmer than me,” she complained playfully. “Or maybe I’m just in denial that it’s autumn,” she added after a moment of reflection. “I can’t believe we’ll be off to our second Grand Prix soon.”

“Hmm.” She felt so good pressed against him Robin was barely listening. “It’s nice having you close.” His hand coasted up and down her spine for emphasis. 

Regina let out a sound of exasperation. “You just like having my chest pushed up against yours.” She raised her head to shoot him a glare of chastisement. “You’re such a boy.”

Robin wasn’t offended because she was right. “In my defense… it is a rather nice chest,” he teased, eyeing her hopefully as he spoke. In the dim light of her bedroom he could only just make out the shape of her breasts beneath her tank top, but he liked what he saw nonetheless. 

He must have been smiling too much because Regina grumbled and rolled over. “Straight boys are all the same,” she mumbled, her voice half-muffled by the pillow. “At the end of the day, even the charming ones like you are obsessed with boobs.”

Robin readjusted himself so he was lying behind her with his arm draped over her waist before responding. “Turning your back on me isn’t going to make them magically go away,” he pointed out. “In fact… if I sneak a peek over your shoulder right now…”

“Ugh!” Regina exclaimed, pulling the blanket up and smoothing it over her chest. “You’re so bad!”

Robin grinned wickedly and dropped a playful kiss on her shoulder. “And of course turning your back also puts one of your other prized assets in my line of vision,” he pointed out. 

Regina groaned and rolled onto her back again. “Alright, you win. I hope you’re memorizing all of this because pretty soon it’s going to be buried under bulky sweaters and winter wear.”

Robin chuckled and rested his chin on her shoulder. “It will take more than a sweater and a winter coat to cover up those curves of yours, my lovely.”

She tugged the covers further up but her hands disappeared beneath them once more and find their way to him. He followed in kind, pulling her into his arms again and letting her come to rest against his chest. Hands start to touch and tease again, tentatively exploring each other’s bodies and soon Regina doesn’t feel cold at all. She feels warm and giddy when only an hour ago she’d been stifling a yawn behind her dessert menu. But her giddiness can’t disguise her tiredness. Her hands are clumsier than she’d like and when they start to drift lower, Robin reached out to stop her. “Rest now,” he whispered. “I know you’re tired.”

And she was. Sleep came easily but morning was another matter. Though Robin had nothing but the utmost respect for her, she knew he was frustrated. She could feel it the next morning when she awoke and he was half-hard against her thigh. She woke him up with a gentle shake of his shoulder and he apologized, but she shook her head. “I can help you take care of that, you know,” she murmured, still slightly sleep dazed but wanting to prove herself. Robin didn’t protest: he guided her hand to where he needed it and let her go to work. It’s been ages since she’d tried this with someone and her hand was uncertain until he made a grunt of approval that spurred her on. She picked up the pace, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “how’s that?”

Another groan escaped his lips and she had her answer before he even spoke. “That’s perfect,” he assured her. “You know… I’ve always admired your hands,” he added with a smirk.

Is that so, she thought. “Really? How do you like them now?” She gripped him a little tighter for emphasis.

He groaned again and his hips twitched upward. He’s already close, she realized. “They’re wonderful,” he sighed, reaching for her again. “Even better than I imagined.”

A triumphant grin spread its way across Regina’s face. “So you have imagined this, then.”

Robin leaned upward and kissed her neck and this time she was the one to make a noise of satisfaction. “I’ve imagined a lot of things,” he admitted, his eyes raking deliberately up and down her body. 

Well, I can’t let him get away with that. “Is that so?” She paused her efforts for a moment and he let out a little whine. “Well then.” She started to work again, but at a slower pace, drawing the encounter out. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t imagined you in a few compromising positions.” She teased him, quickening her pace and slowing down again in equal measure. She could feel him beginning to grow desperate: his hands groped at her sides, tethering her body against his own. “Touch me,” she whispered, using her free hand to push one of his from her waist to her hip. And he did: his grip on her tightened so quickly it almost hurt. A whimper escaped her throat and immediately he yanked his hand away and begged for forgiveness. She waved him off: he’s too close now for her not to finish it and besides, she already knows he’ll make it up to her later. With a final grunt, he spilled in her hand and slumped back against the mattress. She left him alone for a moment: her hands were a mess, so she slipped out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom to remedy the situation. When she returned, Robin was sitting up in bed and looking very contrite. “You didn’t hurt me,” she said before he can even get the words out. “You just surprised me.”

Robin looked infinitely relieved. “I’d never forgive myself if I did.”

Regina shook her head and got back into bed. “I can’t expect you to know how I like to be handled unless you try something with me. You’re a gentleman, but you’re not a mind-reader.” 

He relaxed a little bit more. “I look forward to finding out what you like,” he said, eyes skimming over her again as he spoke. “Is there… anything you’d like at the moment?” 

“Hmm.” Regina tilted her head, considering his hopeful expression. “What I’d really like right now is for a handsome young man to cook me breakfast.”

A toothy grin spread across Robin’s face. “That I can do. But… are you sure there’s nothing else you require at the present?” 

Regina leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll let you know when,” she promised. Maybe not when Tink is sleeping right next door, she added to herself. Robin had possessed the good sense to keep it quiet, but Regina tended to be more… vocal in bed than he did. Maybe when we’re in France for our Grand Prix. Paris is supposed to be the epitome of romance. The mere thought sent a thrill down her spine. I hope he’s ready, she thought wickedly as Robin rolled out of bed. He won’t know what hit him.

****

As it turned out, Tink had not actually slept next door that night. She’d spent the night on the couch with Elsa, much to Regina’s amusement when she and Robin came downstairs to make breakfast. Tink was embarrassed and Elsa apologetic but Regina waved them off. “Stay for breakfast,” she insisted, even as poor Elsa wrung her hands and hemmed and hawed. “You’re welcome here,” Regina added, trying to put the nervous girl at ease. “Any friend – or girlfriend – of Tink’s is a friend of ours.”

Elsa bit her lip, still looking nervous. “You really mean that?” she said in her soft, musical voice.

“Truly,” Robin added from the kitchen. “How do you take your coffee?”

This time, Elsa managed a hesitant smile. “Black with just a hint of sugar, please.” 

Robin nodded in approval, completely unsurprised at the request. When Regina asked him about it later he said, “She’s a singer, isn’t she? So she probably doesn’t take cream in her coffee or milk in her tea because dairy is bad for your vocal chords.”

Regina marvelled at how thoughtful he was. He was always doing things like that: whether it was holding the door open for a harried coach at the skating club or doing heavy lifting around the house. There was something very sexy about a man who was thoughtful and kind but still manly at the same time. Not that he didn’t have flaws: he hogged the bathroom and let dishes pile up in the sink, but those were minor grievances as far as Regina was concerned. The Grand Prix of France concerned her more: they would be competing against Guinevere and Lancelot again and they also had Darling and Pan to contend with. Regina didn’t see them as a threat: Darling and Pan were barely out of the junior ranks and inexperienced on top of it. Robin was more concerned when he learned Peter Pan was assigned to be his hotel roommate. Regina had been assigned to room with Snow again, so Robin was miffed he didn’t get paired up with David. But he was determined to be civil, even though his annoyance with Pan at Champs Camp had soured his opinion of the boy. Everyone deserve a second change, Robin reminded himself. The poor kid was probably just nervous at Champs Camp and eager to prove himself. Things will be better this time.

The flight to Paris was uneventful: Regina and Robin’s seats were a few rows over from Lancelot and Guin’s so they had a chance to talk and socialize after the seatbelt signs went off but didn’t feel obligated to hang out with them for the entire flight. Despite sharing a rink for several months now they were still in the getting-to-know-you stage with their training mates. Arriving in Paris was another matter: Regina wandered off with Snow glued to her side, giving Robin a flirtatious look as she departed. He had no intention of insinuating himself into their girl talk, so he retreated to his own hotel room and tried not to be to melancholy about the arrangements. Pan showed up an hour later, having come in on a different flight from theirs. He surveyed the room with an air of disapproval and unceremoniously dumped his suitcase in the space between the two beds. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, as if he only noticed Robin for the first time after he’d sat down and started unpacking. 

Robin smiled tightly, labouring to forget their previous interaction. “Hello Peter. How was your flight?”

The younger boy harrumphed. “It was disgusting,” he said, wrinkling his nose at the memory. “The child in the next seat had a cold and the little shit damn near slobbered all over me.”

“How unpleasant,” Robin remarked, though on the inside he was thinking, thanks for bringing the germs back to our room. If I get sick now, I’m blaming you. But instead he said, “I have an extra packet of tissues should you have need of any.”

Peter didn’t respond. Fine then, Robin thought. Be that way. But don’t say I didn’t try to be hospitable. “I’m going to go see how my partner is doing,” he said, still keeping his face friendly and his voice light. “Good luck at practice tomorrow,” he added over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

Pan made a noise in his throat that was somewhere between a groan of annoyance and a chuckle of disbelief. “It’s not about luck, Locksley,” he drawled. “It’s about being in the right place at the right time.”

What the hell does that mean? Robin wondered, but he kept his musings to himself. “See you later,” he said, before excusing himself. What a strange kid, he thought as he wandered down the hall. I wonder what he’ll be like to compete against? He shook the thought off when he arrived at Regina’s door and knocked. She opened it almost immediately and the sight of her calmed his frazzled nerves in an instant.

“Miss me already?” She grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him inside without hesitation. “Let me guess: your roommate’s a bore and you decided me and Snowflake would be better company.”

“Stop calling me Snowflake,” Snow protested half-heartedly, but she was smiling too. “It’s nice to see you, Robin,” she added. “Regina and I were just discussing where to go for dinner. I guess we don’t need to worry about inviting your roommate.”

Double dates are starting to become a ritual for us, Robin observed. They had dinner with Snow and David the first night and lunch with Guinevere and Lancelot the following day before the first practice session. Practice sessions on unfamiliar ice always made Robin wary. Too many people who weren’t used to each other sharing the same ice surface made him hyperaware of everything going on around him. But there were protocols in place to prevent accidents from happening: everyone got a turn to rehearse their programs to their own music. Whoever’s music was playing at a given time had the right of way around the rink.

“Let’s run through the pattern dance and the non-touching steps today,” Ursula said from the boards as Mills and Locksley prepared for their turn. Guinevere and Lancelot were rehearsing at the moment, showing off their French-themed free dance to the Amelie soundtrack. As reigning Worlds medalists, the other skaters in the session were giving them plenty of space. Another younger and inexperienced team from France were simultaneously star-struck and terrified to be sharing the ice with their country’s top team. And to think I was once that young and naïve, Robin thought as his attention flitted from team to team. Finally it was Mills and Locksley’s turn. They glided out into their starting position and the confident expression on Regina’s face buoyed his emotions. Always so fierce, even in practice, he thought affectionately. That’s my Regina.

The music started, upbeat and catchy. Regina fell into character with a practiced air and Robin followed in kind. The pattern dance had to start at a specific spot on the ice, so the other skaters were already out of the way when Robin led Regina to the starting point. He felt secure as he led her through the turns and steps, catching the highlights in the melody as they went. It was so easy to fall under her spell: watching her in his peripheral vision helped Robin stay centered in his own movements and the view was nice besides. Every so often she would catch his eye and he’d be momentarily dazzled by her beauty. Regina always teased him about it, but their coaches insisted that these little moments helped make their chemistry on the ice more believable. 

They exited the pattern dance with their usual flair and drifted off. They rarely ever performed the entire program during a practice session. Today they skipped the lift and some of the connecting steps but Regina still wanted to practice the twizzles. They skated around a corner, picking up speed as the music change kicked in and prepared to launch themselves into the element. Robin glided forward on the inside edge of his right skate blade to start the first spin but a sudden cry of alarm from Regina halted his steps. 

“Look out!” she shouted, flinging out an arm to stop him. Robin looked up to see Darling and Pan had skated directly into their path practicing their own twizzles. Robin stopped dead, making a wild grab for Regina to push her out of harm’s way. Darling and Pan ground to a halt only a few feet away, looking like a pair of young deer in the headlights. Their coach admonished them from the sidelines and they skated away to receive their reprimand before anyone could say anything. The whole encounter lasted only a few seconds but Robin’s pounding heart lingered. He felt lost on the ice, stepping sloppily on the flat side of his blades until Regina’s trembling hand found his. “Put it behind you,” she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze for reassurance. “We still have to practice the no-touching steps.” 

They’d fallen behind the music but Regina powered them through it. Her steps and turns were precise and lethal, as if the near-collision hadn’t impacted her nerves at all. That’s my Regina, Robin thought again as he picked up his own pace and did his best to match her moves. She channels all her anger and frustration and fear into being a better performer. Maybe I can do that too. He gritted his teeth and pushed his skating leg harder into the ice, bending softly at the knee and extending his free leg on the beat of the music, perfecting matching Regina move by move. His determination paid off: the other skaters and coaches gave them an impromptu round of applause after they completed the step sequence and it heightened his spirits once again. 

It was only afterward, once their turn was over and the next team started their run-through that Robin’s heartrate finally returned to normal. They glided over to the boards and were met by the grim faces of Ursula and John, who wasted no time shoving water bottles into their hands and making noises of condolence. “They were the ones in the wrong, not you,” John was quick to say. “You guys had right of way. They shouldn’t have been in the middle of the ice like that.”

Wendy Darling, a girl no older than seventeen skated over just then, followed closely by her coach. Pan glided over too at a much slower pace. “Pardon me,” the coach, an older man with hair just starting to go grey, interrupted the group. “My skaters would like to apologize to yours.” He addressed the other coaches as he said this, before shooting an angry look at Pan. Wendy whimpered and burst into tears. “Go on now,” Pan’s coach said, in a slightly gentler voice than before. “Be a good sportsman, Peter.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak but Wendy beat him to it. “We’re so sorry!” the poor girl wailed. “We’ve been drilling that element for weeks and Peter thought we’d have enough room to finish it before you started yours…” her gaze darted fearfully from her coach to her partner. The coach still looked apologetic but Pan’s face was expressionless, almost mask-like. 

Robin wanted to say it was okay and that mistakes happen, but he couldn’t get the words out. Maybe it was because Pan had already rubbed him the wrong way back at the hotel but there was something about the boy that he already hadn’t liked. And now… some small, darker part of his mind wondered if the younger team’s infraction had been deliberate. Was this how Regina felt when she got a bad vibe from someone? Had her intuition finally rubbed off on him?

Regina spoke first, relieving him from having to say anything. “Twizzles can be dangerous,” she said with a knowing nod. “I don’t blame you for wanting to practice them. I know this is your first senior Grand Prix and you must be really nervous,” she added and Wendy nodded, still sniffling. “Just… wait your turn next time and everything will be fine.” She smiled then and relief washed over Wendy’s face. Pan muttered an apology of his own and the skaters and their coach cleared off shortly after. It was only when their backs were turned that Robin risked another glance at his partner. She was still smiling, but only he had noticed that the smile did not reach all the way up to her eyes. The second they were far enough away, the smile turned into a toothy smirk. “That was deliberate,” she mouthed, careful to keep her voice down. “Little juniors coming up to senior thinking they’re big shots.”

“They’ll soon learn,” Ursula murmured reassuringly. “The judges won’t take kindly to that sort of behavior.”

Robin found his voice at last. “No smack talk – we’re better than that. Let’s do our talking on the ice tomorrow.”

Regina’s expression changed again, this time back to the flirtatious demeanour he so enjoyed. “Ooh. I love it when you talk tough.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she spoke and Robin’s heart fluttered in return.

Ursula cleared her throat pointedly. “Enough flirting. Get back to practice.” Ursula shooed them off but even as she did it, she was fighting back a smile. Robin took Regina’s hand again as the skated away from the boards and laced their fingers together. We’ll show Pan how a senior team should behave in a competitive environment, he thought determinedly. Once we’re through with them, they’ll wish they stayed on the junior circuit.


	7. Universally Panned

Robin did not return to his hotel room after practice that night. Regina took pity on him and invited her to stay with her instead. “You’ll have to put with Snowflake being there, but at least she’s better company than Peter,” she pointed out. “And I’ll be there of course,” she added with a suggestive smile. So Robin stayed and he didn’t care what his impertinent roommate thought about it either. Snow invited David over as well and they passed a restful evening watching cheesy rom coms and snacking on French cuisine. It was nice to unwind before the stress of the competition kicked into overdrive.

Regina awoke the next morning with Robin’s arm around her waist and his head resting in the crook of her neck and shoulder. She extricated herself gently from his embrace and slipped out for her morning shower before the others woke up. The warm water calmed her nerves and she pushed yesterday’s near-collision into the farthest corner of her mind while she got dressed and did her makeup. If anything, Pan’s poor attitude and lack of sportsmanship only made her more determined to skate better and to be more courteous to her competitors. 

She breezed into the women’s change room before the short dance as if she owned the place, greeting Guinevere warmly and even sparing a smile and a hello for Wendy Darling. The teenager still looked shell-shocked from yesterday’s accident and Regina’s heart softened a little. She’s probably a sweet girl, she reasoned. She’s just stuck with an obnoxious partner. She wouldn’t be the first one. “Your costume is gorgeous,” Regina said, in reference to the heavily sequined flapper-style dress Wendy was wearing. 

Wendy blushed nervously and smoothed out her skirt. “Thank you,” she said softly. “And about yesterday…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Regina insisted. She wanted to put the accident behind her and besides, it had been Pan’s fault, not Wendy’s. “Accidents happen.”

Wendy managed to give a hesitant smile in return. “Peter’s always taking risks. Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t.”

Hmm, Regina thought shrewdly. She knows the mistake was on him. This girl knows what’s up. “Don’t let him boss you around,” she advised in a knowing voice. “Don’t forget: the boy may be the leader on the ice, but it’s also his responsibility to make sure his partner is safe.”

Wendy nodded, still looking nervous but also with a hint of determination she hadn’t had a moment before. Regina gave the younger girl one last smile of reassurance before gathering her things and meeting Robin for their customary walk to the holding area. They went out for their warmup, keeping a closer eye than usual on the competitors. Troyes and DuLac, the local favourites, looked strong and confident in their glittery black costumes and the lower ranked teams all shared the same nervous but hopeful expression. Darling and Pan skated first in the final group to a medley of songs by Caro Emerald. Though the program was a crowd-pleaser for its youthful exuberance, Regina’s keen eye spotted a few technical deficiencies in the pattern dance. The lower ranked French team got a big cheer from the Parisian audience and the young team from Spain had a fun hip hop program. By the time Mills and Locksley’s turn came, Regina was feeling confident. So far only one team, the dreaded Darling and Pan, had scored over sixty. It was time to slay.

There was a time only a few years ago that cracking sixty in the short dance was a major accomplishment. But in recent years, scores had been on the rise. Now you needed seventy or better to be a podium contender. For Mills and Locksley, they needed to do well on the technical half of the score to push for the podium. The pattern dance was worth a high number of points when performed correctly, but the slightest error would result in a scoring drop that would hurt their chances. But Regina wasn’t worried. They’d been training the pattern for months and the work paid off: they sailed through the element with superior flow and ice coverage, earning a nice bout of applause from the audience. The lift went off with precise timing, making Regina smile at Robin again as he set her down. The dreaded twizzles were next and Regina held her breath as they took a choreographed hop into the first set. Robin seemed a little off-balance (the video they would see in the Kiss n Cry a few minutes later would show they got off unison) but he completed the correct number of rotations for each of the travelling spins. They’d still get the highest level of difficulty but their grade of execution would be lower than usual. Oh well. At least we stayed upright and didn’t spin out. That can still be fixed, Regina thought to herself as they prepared to start the no-touching step sequence. Forget the damn twizzles. It’s time to shine.

A great deal of care and training time had been dedicated to the non-touching steps. The extra dance practice on the floor had helped to transform the step sequence into the highlight of the program. Even for Robin, who had been so nervous about it before, had come to enjoy performing this part of the dance. The audience enjoyed it too, clapping along to the beat and cheering loudly when the program came to an end. Mills and Locksley bowed and waved, soaking up their praise. “They’ll cheer louder for their hometown heroes in a minute, but for now let’s enjoy it,” Regina said to Robin as they bowed to the other side of the stands. 

“The French appreciate good ice dancing when they see it,” Robin added shrewdly as they skated over to the boards. The cheering hadn’t died down because Troyes and DuLac were already on the ice to take their turn. He gave the crowd another genial wave before putting on his skateguards and meeting Regina in the booth. “Our training mates look good,” he added thoughtfully as Lancelot and Guinevere glided by.

Of course they did. Regina doubted a team as physically attractive as Guin and Lancelot could ever not look good. We won’t catch them today, she lamented privately. Not with those off-kilter twizzles. Poor Robin. Pan must have really scared him yesterday. She glanced sideways at her partner and reached out to take his hand. “The step sequence felt good,” she said, choosing to praise what he’d done right instead of calling out what he’d done wrong. “You finally learned how to work those hips.”

Robin grinned and leaned closer. “I learned from the best, milady.”

****

In the end, Mills and Locksley didn’t have anything to worry about. They scored just under seventy for their short dance and even the great Troyes and DuLac only scored two points more. Regina was on cloud nine: after working beside Guin and Lancelot for so many months, she knew how good they were. And if she and Robin were almost catching up, that had to mean they were getting good too.

There was a press conference after the short dance with the three highest scoring teams in attendance. Troyes and DuLac got the most of the attention from the French press but Regina didn’t mind. Guinevere was very well-spoken and Lancelot was so charming he had the press eating out of the palm of his hand. When one of the reporters called on Darling and Pan to answer a question, Wendy leaned into the microphone first but Peter pushed past her and answered for them both. “Yes, of course we’re cognizant of being a young team in a deep field, but it’s good to have new blood,” he said in a drawling tone that oozed the sort of fake confidence a person used before they learned how to actually be confident. “And sometimes it’s good to let the old dogs learn some new tricks for a change,” he added with a smirk.

Regina bit back a smile. The press would have a field day with that little remark. Wendy tilted the microphone back in her direction and did the necessary damage control. “We’re very happy to be here and to make our senior Grand Prix debut,” she said demurely. “There are many great teams here and we know we’ll have our work cut out for us.” That seemed to satisfy the press, but Pan looked miserable for the rest of the session. Robin almost felt bad for him – keyword being almost. But he didn’t feel sorry enough to share their hotel room. Robin spent the night cuddling with Regina instead and got a much better night’s sleep than he ever would have if he’d shared living space with that little upstart. Robin wasn’t the only one who thought Pan’s comments at the press conference were out of line: in the dressing room before the free dance the next day, Lancelot called Pan a “little shit” the second the younger boy walked out the door. Robin chuckled politely but didn’t add any extra commentary. The last thing he needed was the press catching wind of what he really thought of his young competitor.

But all of Robin’s negative thoughts fell away when he laid eyes on his partner in her full free dance regalia. The dark blue dress was stunning but it was the hair that really set it off. Gone was the overly complicated updo that had plagued her at Skate Canada: today Regina’s hair was pulled back at the sides with rhinestone bobby pins and a cascade of curls that tumbled down her back. “What do you think?” she asked nervously as he gawked at her. “I know it’s different than in the movie, but…”

“Stunning,” Robin declared, brushing a stray curl away from her shoulder so he could admire her properly. “Then again, you’re always stunning.”

Regina swatted his hand away and gave him a look. “Save the flirting for after the free dance, handsome. We’ve still got a job to do here.”

Mills and Locksley waited as the first three teams in the final group took to the ice. The young Spanish team skated to Carmen, bringing back memories of Regina’s old Carmen program with Jefferson. The other French team did a tango which was serviceable but otherwise unremarkable. Darling and Pan skated to selections from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, earning a derisive laugh from Regina for their efforts. “Vivaldi is not for the faint of heart,” she whispered to Robin. “They’re really not mature enough to pull it off.” She was right: the grandiose music forced the young couple to chase each other around the ice surface to keep up with it. 

“The music does seem a bit… big for them,” Robin agreed after watching for a minute. Well there, he added to himself. I won’t let that little cretin get in my head again. Not if this is the best he can offer. “I think Wendy’s the better skater of the pair anyway,” he added after watching them for another minute.

“She’s definitely better,” Regina agreed. Not even close, she added silently. She had an uncharitable thought just then that Wendy would end up outgrowing Pan and find a better partner in the long run. Serves him right, she thought. He may think he’s all that, but she’s the real star of the team. 

With their confidence buoyed, Mills and Locksley took to the ice to skate one of their best ever free dances. Everything felt good from the lifts to the step sequences and the spin. Even the twizzles felt better than usual. Robin was so giddy with relief when they finished that he lifted Regina off her feet when she hugged him afterwards. His good humour was contagious: Regina kept smiling all the way through the long wait in the Kiss n Cry and when the marks finally came up she let out a squeal. Their mark was just shy of 100 points, a few fractions of a point more than their personal best from last year’s World Championships. That should keep her happy for some time, Robin thought triumphantly. Happy and smug, he amended when they passed by a subdued looking Darling and Pan in the hallway. They found a monitor backstage to watch Troyes and DuLac perform and while the French team blew everyone else out of the water, Regina’s victory smirk never wavered. They were finally secure in their place as contenders. No junior upstarts would get in their way – at least not this season. Mills and Locksley would end the competition with another silver medal and a guaranteed trip to the Grand Prix Final.

The medal ceremony and the press conference that followed were another exercise in patience. Troyes and DuLac greeted Mills and Locksley cordially from their place at the top of the podium, but Pan barely made eye contact when he shook his competitor’s hands. He was similarly taciturn at the press conference and the mood in the room went from celebratory to tense in a matter of minutes. Regina found herself growing irritated with her young competitor and had half a mind to tell him so. A third place finish for a young team just out of the junior ranks was still a huge achievement. Behaving like a sore loser isn’t going to win you any fans, she wanted to say. And like it or not, we skaters live or die by our fans just as much as we live or die by the judges. Even if you win, no one will remember you won if no one likes you.

But she didn’t say anything. She kept her mouth shut and a smile on her face throughout the press conference, even going as far as to let Robin do the talking this time. He’d gotten better at it and why should she have to be the diplomatic one all the time? Especially if she ended up saying something she’d regret later. No. Better to keep it professional for now. But keeping quiet was not something that came naturally to her. The moment she was alone with Robin the words started to spill out of her mouth.

“Was I that uppity when I was his age?” she ranted as Robin sat on her hotel room bed watching her pace back and forth. “I don’t know why I even care. If someone wants to be a bad sportsman, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Robin caught her hand and beckoned her over. She sat reluctantly, a glare twisting her features but he still smiled at her anyway. “You care because that’s what you do,” he said soothingly. “You care because you want everyone to live up to their full potential,” he continued, gently tilting her chin upward to look into her eyes. “And you care because you feel sorry for his partner,” he added, brushing her hair back from her neck. “You care because you have the strongest heart of anyone I’ve ever known.” His hand dropped down to hover just above the very heart he’d just described and for a second Regina thought he was going to touch her. Her breath hitched, pushing her chest outward, making him start to move his hand away so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea. 

Too late: she caught his hand and pressed it against her rapidly beating heart anyway and they both inhaled and exhaled in perfect unison. She smiled, continuing to press his hand against her chest while her free hand did likewise against his. “I don’t know about the strongest heart. Yours is pretty strong too,” she pointed out.

Robin smiled, biting his lip in a way that played at being shy when in reality she knew he was flattered by the comment. He’s so cute when he does that, she thought as she eyed his lips hopefully. Sensing her meaning, Robin leaned in for a kiss – a kiss that was interrupted when the hotel room door swung open and Snow squealed at the sight of them as if she’d walked in on more than just a kiss.   
“Don’t let me stop you!” Snow chirped dodging between the beds to grab her gym bag. “I just came by to get this.” She waved cheerily and was gone just as abruptly as she’d arrived. But the moment was lost: post-competitive tiredness set in and after their evening meal, Regina wanted nothing more than to curl up in Robin’s arms and sleep it off. The only hitch in the plan: Robin didn’t have a change of clothes. He left Regina lounging on the bed to make the short trip back to his own room to pick up a few necessities. He hoped Pan would be absent but he knocked anyway before swiping his keycard and entering the room. Sure enough, Pan was at the desk, talking in a low voice to someone on the phone as he scribbled angrily on the hotel stationery. 

“It’s fine Felix,” the younger boy insisted to whoever he was talking to. “If they’re going to be that way there’s nothing I can do about it.” Pan spotted Robin and his eyes narrowed. “My roommate just got back,” he sighed tragically. 

Robin made a gesture signifying that he came in peace and resolved to get his things as quickly as possible. Pan tapped his pen against the desk, imitating a metronome as Robin unzipped his suitcase and proceeded to rummage through its contents. The ticking broke Robin’s concentration. What was he looking for again? He paused long enough to collect his scattered thoughts just as Pan spoke again.  
“No Felix.” The boy’s voice was firmer this time. “Don’t feel sorry for me. The fight’s not over yet.” He hit the end call button and looked up expectantly at Robin. “Something you need?”

Robin rearranged his bewildered features into a vague smile before he spoke. “Oh no, just needed to pick up a few things.” He pulled his pyjamas and a change of clothes out of the suitcase and held them up as evidence. “Any plans for the evening?”

Pan smirked. “If I had any plans I certainly wouldn’t be telling you.”

There’s that attitude again. Robin’s distaste burned bright but he schooled himself to stay civil, to be the bigger person. And why wouldn’t he be? He was older and more mature than this boy. Someone had to be the bigger person in the scenario and today the role was his. “Well, I hope you enjoyed your first senior Grand Prix,” he said as he prepared to take his leave. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again at Nationals in a few months.”

Pan’s phony smile turned vicious. “Better watch your back, Locksley. I’ll be practicing day and night to get ahead of you.”

Robin was floored by Pan’s overconfidence. Is this kid even listening to himself right now? We just outscored him by nearly 20 points! “Very ambitious,” he said jovially. Robin’s upbeat attitude seemed to only make Pan angrier, so Robin tried a different tactic. “There’s a lot of good teams at the National level, you know. Some of them have been together for a lot longer than you and Miss Darling have. I know it can be intimidating…”

“I’m not intimidated!” Pan almost shouted but something in his voice broke and his entire expression crumbled. “I’m just not used to losing,” he finished in a much quieter, more subdued voice than Robin had ever heard him use before. 

A sports psychologist would have a field day with this poor chap, Robin thought to himself as he felt his own expression soften again. “Senior level is a lot harder than junior,” Robin said gently. “And the US ice dance field is very deep right now…”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Pan spat. “I don’t need a big brother, Locksley. And I don’t need your pity either.” Pan swiveled his chair away, declaring the conversation over. 

Enough Mr. Nice Guy, Robin decided. You can’t be best friends with everyone. “Suit yourself,” he said with a parting nod. “Goodnight then.”

Robin closed the door harder than he usually would – he wasn’t one to slam doors, but then again he wasn’t the type to be quick to anger. The action rattled him, leaving him second-guessing himself all the way back to Regina’s room. Regina was dozing lightly when Robin let himself in and the sight of her curled up under the covers with her hair loose and wild on the pillow brought him back to himself. At least somethings, he thought, could always be counted on. He changed into his pyjamas and crawled in next to her, being as careful as he could not to rouse her. He was unsuccessful: her eyes snapped open with alarm but she relaxed the second she realized it was him. “You’re back,” she murmured sleepily.

“I am indeed.” Regina made a move to get up but Robin shook his head. “Rest now, love. We’re going to the Grand Prix Final.”

“Hmm,” she sighed into her pillow. “Hopefully you’ll get a better roommate at our next competition.”

“If I don’t,” he said, “I’ll come and find you instead.”

Despite her exhaustion, Regina still found the energy for a wry chuckle. “I certainly hope so.” She snuggled closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. “But it’s not over yet. We still have to perform our new exhibition program tomorrow…” she trailed off with a delicate yawn and closed her eyes again.

“Ah yes. Our exhibition.” Robin loved their new exhibition to “As Long as You’re Mine”. He’d taken Regina to the West End to see Wicked on their summer holiday and the story stuck with them both even after so many months had passed. 

“What do you think it will be like?” she mused. “The Grand Prix Final I mean.”

Robin was so preoccupied with stoking her hair and thinking about their exhibition it took him a moment to process her words. “I don’t rightfully know,” he admitted. “I’ve never been to the Final.”

She sighed sadly. “I’ve only been once. Back when I was with Jefferson.” She made a little noise of disbelief. “It feels like a million years ago. I don’t even remember what skating with someone else felt like.”

The significance of Regina’s words did not go unnoticed. She’d skated with Jefferson for how many years… Robin’s thoughts trailed off when he realized he didn’t even know. It was amazing how everything else fell away when he was skating with her: nothing else mattered but the two of them and the stories they told in their dances. This was how it was supposed to feel. This is what it meant to fall in love with your partner. And Robin was deeply, hopelessly, completely in love with his partner. 

He was just too scared to tell her. He whispered her name in the dark hotel room but received only silence in response. She was asleep again, curled up against him with a smile playing on her lips. He didn’t dare wake her up again so he resolved to close his eyes and try to rest – never an easy task when there was such beauty beside him. His last thought before sleep took him was that he needed to tell her – but only when the time was right.


	8. Before the Final

There were two more Grand Prix events after the once in France and once the dust settled Mills and Locksley were not the only ones who’d earned their way to the Final. They would be going up against all their biggest rivals: Marvella and Gardiner, Lucas and Booth, Troyes and DuLac, Swan and Jones and Tremaine and Scarlet. By chance, the Grand Prix Final would see them return to France, only this time the competition was to be held in Marseille instead of Paris. 

Lancelot was pleased with the assignment. “It’s not every year you get to compete in your home country more than once,” he remarked to the others one day during a brief respite from training. 

“Careful Lance,” Guinevere teased. “Our training mates will think we have unfair advantage.” She gave Regina and Robin an apologetic look. “Don’t mind him. He’s very nationalistic for someone who’s only half-French.”

“I can’t blame him, being only half-American myself,” Robin responded good-naturedly. “Many of us ice dancers come from mixed backgrounds. It’s become a tradition.”

“That’s a good point,” Regina chimed in thoughtfully. “There’s more country-hopping in ice dance than there is in any other discipline.”

“We go where the partners are,” Guinevere said. “But having a French parent helped. My father was French and my mother was Spanish. I could have skated for either country but…” she trailed of and gazed at Lancelot with a look of deep satisfaction. “Then I met Lance. Everything else just fell into place after that.”

“I was the same,” Robin said. “Only my father was American and my mother English. They met while she was studying in America, got married here and had me. But they moved back to England when I was just a lad, so I lived there for most of my life. Until I got the call to audition with this lovely lady.” He caught Regina’s eye and grinned.

“At least none of us will have to worry about citizenship when the Olympics roll around,” Regina pointed out. She hadn’t given it much thought but later, on when she was back on the ice, she wondered if some of her competitors would be as lucky. What about Alice Marvella? She was English by birth. Did she have US citizenship? What about Darling and Pan? They were both English too. So was Merlin Ambrose. What about Frederick Jameson? Wasn’t he born in Canada? Granted, it was easier to make the move from Canada to the US (and vice versa) but it was less easy to move anyplace further away. What about Belle French’s partner Archie? He definitely wasn’t born in Australia. And Killian Jones was Irish by birth, though Regina knew he’d been in the States for nearly a decade. Surely he’d have citizenship. Same too for August Booth: he’d lived in Canada long enough to be a citizen. But that was the risk that came from forming an international partnership: if your partner didn’t sort out their citizenship issues in time, you could kiss your chance at the Olympics goodbye.

But none of that mattered now. Skaters at the Grand Prix/World Championships level didn’t need citizenship in the country they were representing to compete. It was only at the Olympic level that the rules were more rigid. So Mills and Locksley would go to the Grand Prix Final and compete against teams that were multi-national. We’re all breaking down boundaries in our own way, Regina realized. And that’s what sport is supposed to be about. 

“It’s funny to think Tremaine and Scarlet are the only team at the Final where both partners are from the same country originally,” Regina remarked to Robin later on that day after they’d returned home from training. 

“They were born in different parts of England though,” Robin said thoughtfully. 

“Enough talk of the competition,” Regina declared. “We’re going to be going away again soon and we’ll be too tired and too stressed out to have any… extra-curricular fun.” She lowered her voice suggestively at the end of her sentence and caught Robin’s eye.

“Ahh,” Robin drawled, catching her meaning. “So you’re saying we should make a little time for fun before we go.”

Regina grinned victoriously. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And I know for a fact that our friend Tink will be going to the movies with Elsa tomorrow night…”

Robin reached for her waist and drew her into a kiss. “Say no more, my lovely. I’m looking forward to it already.”

****

She looks wonderful like this, Robin thought to himself as he lay next to Regina on her bed the following night. She was breathless from being kissed so many times, hair wild and loose, sweater bunched up around her waist. He wanted to keep kissing her, but every few minutes he had to pull away and marvel at her. “Stop staring,” she would say before pulling him into another heady kiss. “I look the same as I did five minutes ago.”

Robin disagreed. In his eyes, Regina changed every time he touched her. First it was the little smile after a kiss on the cheek – innocent enough for starters. Then there was the way her lips fell open when he kissed her neck or the way her eyes fluttered shut when his hands started to travel down her back. His favourite change was when he tried something new and was rewarded with a little gasping sound – tonight it was his fingers slipping up under her sweater and pulling it and the camisole she wore underneath upward inch by inch. He had it halfway up her ribcage now, exposing the soft skin underneath to the tireless pursuit of his nimble fingers. She was making him work for it: she could easily sit up and strip her sweater off, or let him take it off for her but she seemed content to revel in his ministrations for the time being.

“Mm!” she protested when he traced a finger above her navel. “That tickles,” she giggled. Sensing her laughter was an invitation to continue, he tried it again and she shot him a reproachful look. “Don’t,” she said, shaking her head this time. “I don’t like being tickled.”

To his credit, Robin didn’t question her. He simply refocused his efforts elsewhere, finding her neck again with his mouth and peppering her skin with kisses. Soon she was smiling again, reaching up to wrap her arms around his waist and arching her head back to give him easier access. When did it get so warm in here? Regina wondered belatedly as Robin’s mouth ghosted over her collarbone. She slipped her own hands up under his t-shirt and tried to work it off to no avail. With the way he was lying half on his side and half on top of her it made getting his clothes off much more difficult than it needed to be. Robin took pity on her and removed the shirt himself, chuckling as he did and gesturing to her bunched up sweater. I guess it’s only fair, Regina thought as she pulled the sweater over her head and dropped it on the floor. Robin went for her neck again, kissing his way down the left side and veering off in the direction of her now-exposed shoulder. Her skin was so soft and smooth beneath his lips he couldn’t resist giving her a light nip in the space between her neck and her shoulder. He felt her shudder beneath him so he tried it again, aiming for the same spot on her neck he’d been kissing moments before.

“Hey!” she cried out suddenly, jerking her neck out of range. “No biting. The Grand Prix final is less than a week away. I can’t be photographed with hickeys all over my neck.”

Robin made a little noise of protest. “How come you were allowed to bite my lip earlier then?” he teased, recalling how she’d bared her teeth at him.

“Oh please,” Regina scoffed. “I didn’t bite you hard enough to leave a mark. But… alright, fine. If that’s the way you want it. I won’t bite you if you don’t bite me. At least not until after the competition.”

“Fine by me,” Robin agreed. He surveyed her neck for a moment then added, “I guess I’ll just have to find something else to do then.” He came at her again but this time it wasn’t with his teeth: he swiped his tongue against her skin and was rewarded with a sharp moan and a pair of hands on his waist. “What?” he said after he pulled away and saw the look of surprise on her face. “You said no biting. You didn’t say anything about licking.”

“No,” she murmured as he began to work his way up the other side of her neck with a combination of kisses and licks. “But – oh!” she cried out when he found a sensitive spot. She was starting to feel riled up in a way that would take more than kisses to placate. She let out a sigh of frustration, not sure if she wanted him to keep teasing or if she wanted more – and if so, how much more. His hands were already on the move again, one inching upward against her side toward her left breast, the other downward to her right hip. “Robin,” she whispered, suddenly uncertain. “What… what do you want to do with me?”

The question was enough to make him stop for a breath and to look at her. Her uncertainly must have been written on her face because his hands stilled against her, only inches away from their destinations. “What do you want to do?” he asked gently, sitting back a little so she could sit up again. “We don’t have to have sex,” he added hastily, sensing her discomfort. “We can just… fool around like we did after Nebelhorn.”

Relief washed over her. It wasn’t that Regina was a prude – quite the opposite – but her lack of experience made the whole thing so much more awkward than she imagined it should be. “Sounds good to me,” she agreed, giving his hand a nudge back in the direction of her hip. 

Robin was more than happy to comply, content to let his fingers trace the curve of her hip before moving down to the zipper of her jeans. “May I?” he inquired, looking to her for approval. 

Thank God I wore nice underwear today, Regina thought as she helped Robin get her jeans off. Dark grey cotton with black lace trim – nothing too fancy, but enough to make him smile as he traced his fingers over the lace and made her shiver. But then his hands moved lower and Regina let out a whimper of longing. She was already aroused from all the kissing and teasing so when Robin’s fingers found the evidence of that arousal he made his own little noise of approval. “Looks like I got here just in time,” he murmured as he slid one hand fully beneath the fabric between her thighs. “You appear to be in need of some relief.”

Regina lay back again, finally letting out the nervous breath she’d been holding. “I’ll take care of you next,” she promised as his fingers went to work on her. “I just need – oh!” His fingers had already found the right spot. How does he know how to do that? She marveled. Is it pure instinct or has he had a lot of practice? A little taunt of insecurity echoed in her mind but Robin chased it away with his nimble fingers. His hand was moving slowly but not without confidence. He was being hesitant until he was certain she wanted more. The only problem with that was she wanted more already.   
“How’s that, love?” Robin asked as he hovered over her. “Is that what you like?”

“Mm,” Regina nodded, leaning up to give him a kiss. “It feels good.”

Robin’s brow furled in pretend disappointment. “Just good?”

She laughed softly and sat up again. “It’s the angle,” she admitted. “I think… I’ve only done this a few times, but I think I can finish faster if I’m on my side.” She was already on the move, stilling his hand and maneuvering into a better position. 

Robin was uncertain. “You want it to be over faster?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “I just meant…”

Robin had an idea of his own. “Try propping your hips up with a pillow,” he suggested. “Or try bending your knees. That can change the feeling…”

It took a few adjustments but they finally found the right place with her left leg bent and the other flat against the mattress. The awkwardness melted away once Robin got his fingers moving faster and the pleasure started to build. Regina lost herself in it: sounds were coming out of her mouth that she’d never made before and her own hands were grabbing at him as if holding on tighter would ground herself in the moment when all she wanted to do was float away in the ecstasy of it. He was aroused now too and she couldn’t resist helping him along a little. She took his free hand in one of hers and guided it up to her breasts, encouraging him to touch her, to help push her over the edge. She still had her tank top and bra on but it did the trick: Robin cupped one of her breasts, squeezing her gently just as his fingers did something positively sinful below her waist. She moaned again, embarrassed by how loud she was getting. Thank God we live in an end unit, she thought as Robin leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Oh. He wants to know if she wants him inside and just the thought of it almost has her coming apart. He slid a finger into her, testing to see how much more she needed, not wanting to overwhelm her. But by now his own needs were very apparent and his concentration was wavering. Regina shifted her other leg up and then – oh! His finger hit the right spot inside of her and she gasped, his name tumbling from her lips as she rode the resulting wave of pleasure up and over, moaning and groping desperately at his sweat-clad torso until she finished and went still beneath him.

It took her a minute to catch her breath and recover. Robin didn’t withdraw right away: he waited until her breathing slowed and her legs relaxed once more. In her post-orgasm stupor she could hear him breathing shallowly beside her, struggling to undo his own trousers and – no, she thought. I said I’d help him along. She sat up, still feeling a bit dazed but more than happy to fulfill her promise. She takes him in her hand again and it’s ridiculously easy. He’s already so turned on from the sight and the feel of her. Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, Regina wriggled out of her camisole and leaned over him, pushing her ample cleavage closer to his line of sight. Then he was touching her again, reaching up to palm the breast he’d neglected the first time. He seemed to want her bra off but was having a hard time doing it with one hand. Not that it mattered: he was already coasting toward his own relief thanks to the bold strokes of Regina’s playful hands. He finished with a grunt and collapsed unceremoniously against the bed, leaving Regina with a mess to clean up. She shook her head – boys were so easy sometimes – and slipped out the bathroom to wash her hands. Her knees shook as she leaned over the sink: the aftereffects of her own orgasm were still coursing through her system, making her skin feel warm and extra sensitive. 

She stood there dazed in her undergarments, letting the cool water splash down on her hands. At least two full minutes slid by before she felt something else: gentle hands on her waist, nudging her aside so someone else could gain access to the sink. Robin of course. He smiled at her in the mirror, eyes skimming approvingly over her half-naked body. Regina shivered, finally noticing the cold and withdrawing her hands. Was it silly to feel exposed after he’d already seen her in this state? She wandered back to her room still dazed, rummaging through a drawer for some pyjamas. She wanted to be changed by the time he got back – a fool’s errand, since he’d only been a few steps behind her. Where the hell had her tank top gone? She found it on the floor next to her sweater. Damn it, that’s going to be wrinkled, she realised. She put the tank back on and folded the sweater. Robin watched uncertainly from the other side of the bed, not sure how to react. He knew Regina liked things to be just so but what was she going to do now? Take her wrinkled clothes downstairs and iron them?

Regina dropped the sweater on her nightstand and sat back down on the bed. She quickly slipped out of her bra, sliding it off under her top and adding it to the pile. Then and only then did she get back into bed and give Robin the nod to join her. “Sorry,” she whispered, suddenly embarrassed. “You know I’m a neat freak.”

“Indeed I do,” he said ruefully. “It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

The word was out of his mouth before he even processed what he’d said – the word he’d been too afraid to say before, the word that would change everything. Robin froze on the spot, mentally kicking himself for letting his true feelings slip out so carelessly. He’d just as good as told her he loved her! This wasn’t how he’d wanted to say it. It was supposed to be romantic, wasn’t it? It was supposed to be said with care and thought, not mindlessly muttered after rolling around on top of her bed like a pair of horny teenagers. Oh lord, what had he just done? Had he just ruined everything?

But Regina was unfazed. She was lying so still that for a second Robin thought she’d already fallen asleep. But her eyes were open and her cheeks were still delightfully flushed from the afterglow of their passion. She was… calm. Peaceful. She probably hadn’t even heard him…

“You can’t possibly find my worst qualities attractive,” Regina mumbled, her mouth half-muffled by the pillow, her dark eyes searching his.

“Well, one of us need to be organized,” he pointed out, thanking his lucky stars that his flippant comment had gone unnoticed for the moment. I’ll tell her properly soon, he swore to himself. But for now, for the moment they were still suspended in, Robin simply smiled, wrapped Regina in his arms and let his steady breathing lull them both to a deep and restful sleep. Both were so exhausted they didn’t hear Tink and Elsa sneak back in just before midnight, so it was quite a surprise to see the pair of blondes making breakfast together in the kitchen the next morning. Elsa, mortified to the core, apologized profusely for invading the kitchen but Regina waved her off. “When I said you were always welcome here I meant it,” Regina reassured the nervous girl. “And I never say no to someone else doing the cooking.”

Elsa smiled in her usual hesitant but genuine way and quietly steered the topic of conversation toward the Grand Prix Final. Though she was confident in her abilities – they all were at this level of competition – she was going up against a stacked field in the ladies division. Three Russian teenagers with phenomenal flexibility were on the roster, along with Kira Yukimura (the Japanese fan favourite) and a lone Canadian named Jasmine Hart. 

“I’m surprised no American ladies qualified this year,” Elsa said sadly. “Or no Aussies,” she added with a sidelong glance at Tink.

“The competition is stiff,” Regina acknowledged. “And those Russian girls are from another planet.”

“I wish I could come with you all,” Tink sighed dreamily. It was a lovely sentiment and if the Final had been closer to home this year she might have managed it. But the travel costs – and lost training time – were not things Tink could afford. “You’re all going to be amazing. I’ll be glued to the livestream,” she promised. 

Regina hated that Tink would be all by herself next week but Tink assuaged her guilt by reminding Regina that she could simply invite Snow over if the solitude became too much to bear. “We haven’t hung out in ages and I know she’ll want to cheer you guys on. We’ll have plenty of fun. Don’t worry about me. I want you guys to all kick ass at the Final and you can’t do that if you’re feeling sorry for little old me.”

“You’ll be with us in spirit,” Elsa said softly. A look of deep affection passed between the two girls and Regina pointedly looked away so she wouldn’t spoil the moment. It even inspired her to send a similar look Robin’s way and Robin did not mind in the least.

****

A week later they saw Elsa again when they were all on the same flight to France – Elsa was sitting one row over from Regina and Robin, so she ended up trading seats with the third person in Regina and Robin’s row so she could sit with them instead. “I still get nervous sitting next to strangers on planes,” Elsa admitted gratefully. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

They would not be the only skaters who trained in Michigan to fly out on the same flight: Troyes and DuLac and Swan and Jones were also sitting nearby. Between the entire group, everyone had brought along enough magazines, books and games to keep busy during the long flight. Usually Regina preferred to read a novel or listen to music but she ended up flipping through some magazines instead. Guinevere loved fashion magazines and while Regina didn’t buy them for herself she loved to borrow them. Emma had picked up the latest edition of The Ice Mirror at the airport and made a point of showing it to everyone. “Sidney Glass is at it again,” she reported with an expression of deep disapproval that creased her brow and marred her otherwise lovely features. “Has he tried to call any of you for interviews lately?” Emma asked the group.

Regina, curiosity piqued, looked up from the article she was skimming on the latest manicure trends. “He called me before Skate Canada.” The memory still made her cringe. “Has he been calling everyone?”  
Heads nodded all around the group. “He called me,” Guinevere said with a sneer. “I told him to route all future calls through our choreographer instead of contacting us directly. That scared him off. Everyone’s afraid of Cruella.” Her sneer turned deadly as she spoke, betraying the fire within.

That’s a good idea, Regina thought, mentally filing the information away for later. I’ll have to see if I can redirect him to Ursula if he tries to call me again.

“He called me as well,” Elsa chimed in with a shiver. “Or he tried to. I recognized the number from before and I let it go to voicemail.” She smiled suddenly, pushing her fear aside. “Then I… accidentally deleted the message.” She ducked her head, blushing delicately. Good girl, Regina thought. It’s much easier to think the man’s a fraud and a creep when everyone else does too.

“He called me last week,” Emma added with a grimace. “Said he’d heard a rumour one of us was injured…” she glanced at Killian who rolled his eyes. “I didn’t give him anything, but I still wanted to check the new edition just to be sure…”

“He tried that with me too,” Regina recalled. “At the Skate Canada press conference. He tried to get his lackey to trick me into saying something I didn’t mean.” 

Emma flipped another page over. “At least all of us are hip to his tricks.” She frowned at the new page as if already regretting what she’d just said. “Or some of us are. Check this out: it’s another interview with Pan.” She turned the magazine around for everyone to see. 

“He must’ve gotten to the kid after the Grand Prix in Paris,” Lancelot spoke up as he leaned in to skim the article. “Is there anything in there about the accident at practice?”

Emma’s eyes scanned the article again, her brow furled all the while. “Nothing about the near-collision, but…” she looked up again, catching Regina’s eye. “Pan said some of the older skaters were rude to him.” Emma’s gaze flitted from Regina to Robin. “Is this kid for real? I remember how he was at Champs Camp. If anyone was rude in France, it was probably Pan himself, right?”

Robin was not one to speak ill of a competitor but his patience with Peter had officially worn out. The article, however vague and ill-gotten, was the last straw. “I’ve never met a less hospitable competitor in my life,” Robin declared. “And I used to train with Russian skaters. I know all about what’s hospitable. And that boy… well, he’s what my mother would call ‘too big for his britches’.”

The group dissolved into laughter upon hearing Robin’s statement. “Easy there, mate,” Killian piped up as he reached over to give Robin a high five. “Tell us how you really feel.”

Robin shook his head. “I shan’t. For all we know, one of Mr. Glass’s underlings might be lurking nearby looking for dirt for his next article.”

That sobered everyone up. Emma unceremoniously shoved The Ice Mirror back into the depths of her satchel and pulled out a book instead. “At least we won’t have to deal with him until Nationals,” she said in an undertone to Killian before adding to Robin, “is Pan any good at least?”

Robin smirked. It was an unusual facial expression for him so for a moment it threw Regina for a loop. Robin was always so… good. So kind and thoughtful. So willing to see the best in people. For someone to get under his skin like this, they’d have to be a special brand of awful. “They’re a decent team,” he said diplomatically. “But Regina and I both thought Wendy was the better skater of the two.”

Emma sat back in her seat, satisfied with the answer. “Good. I don’t like to speak ill of the competition either, but…” 

She trailed off leaving her unspoken opinions lingering in the air around them. No one liked to speak ill of a competitor. Not really. But if it meant there was one less team they had to worry about beating at Nationals, then so be it. Robin didn’t blame Emma for being concerned. She and Killian had already lost ground to Mills and Locksley last season. Now they were faced with stiff competition ahead of them and eager young competitors from behind, not to mention that Aurelius and Jameson were back in the mix as well now that Kathryn was recovered. They were in a precarious place. They all were, really. With so many good teams, they couldn’t all win. Only three could go to the World Championships. And while they could be friends off the ice, in a few days’ time they’d be competing against each other again. At the end of the day, they all wanted the same thing: medals, prize money and a shot at Olympic glory.

But at least it’s more pleasant to compete against people who respect their competition, Robin thought to himself as his attention was captured by the in-flight movie. And he did. He admired Guinevere and Lancelot for their sexy, romantic programs just as he admired Lucas and Booth for their modern, artistic creations. He admired Swan and Jones for their grit and style and Tremaine and Scarlet for their creativity. He even admired Marvella and Gardiner for their technical proficiency. His competitors were all excellent at what they did. He didn’t begrudge them that excellence because it only made him work harder to be as good as them. 

And it made him work harder to be worthy of his partner.

He felt a light pressure on his shoulder and looked down to see Regina had pillowed her head there again. He smiled to himself, wriggling around in his seat to put his arm around her. That’s my Regina, he thought as the movie started to play. And as much as I admire our competition, I’ll always admire her the most.


	9. The Grand Prix Final

Robin Locksley did not believe in bad omens.

If he was the superstitious sort, he’d be worried about being assigned a roommate he didn’t get along with at two competitions back to back. But he wasn’t superstitious. At least that’s what he told himself when they arrived at the official event hotel and learned that he’d be rooming with Jefferson.

“Better you than me,” Regina joked to lighten the mood but Robin’s expression remained grim. He hadn’t spoken to Jefferson in months. Not since Skate America last year. He’d always meant to but somehow… somehow he’d never gotten around to it. Not even at Champs Camp. Maybe now is the time, he pondered. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. This is a second chance to mend fences with the man. I’d be a fool not to take it.

So Robin reluctantly left Regina’s side and ventured up to his room. Jefferson hadn’t arrived yet, so Robin took the bed by the window and busied himself with unpacking: workout gear, practice clothes, costume and skates. His current pair of skate boots were at just the right stage in their lifecycle: comfortably worn in without being overused; blades freshly sharpened. He’d gone through two pairs of skates already this year. The damn things were a bitch to break in and expensive, but they were his. When he took to the ice, the skates became more than an extension of his own body: they were a part of him. A phantom limb that lingered long after he took them off and left the rink for the night. 

Robin put the skates down just as the door clicked open and Jefferson walked in. Oh thank God, Robin thought as relief washed over him. At least Regina’s ex-partner didn’t just catch me staring at my skates like some sort of deviant. “Hello Jefferson,” he said, giving the other young man a polite nod. “Long time no see.”

“Hey,” Jefferson responded with a hesitant smile and a nod of his own.

“I took the bed by the window,” Robin said, “but I can switch if you want.”

Jefferson shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. I’m happy as long as I have a place to lay my head.” He knelt down by the other bed and unzipped his suitcase. “Congratulations on qualifying,” he added as he began to sort through his belongings. “That’s huge for you guys after being first alternates last year.” His voice was measured and polite without any malice. So far, so good.

“We’re quite excited,” Robin responded with equal politeness, as if locked in a competition to see who could be more cordial. “You know you’ve made it if you get into the Final, after all.”

Jefferson chuckled softly. “This is never not going to be weird, is it?”

Poor man. He must be just as uncomfortable as I am to be sharing living quarters, Robin thought. “Acknowledging the weirdness is a good step,” he said with a little laugh of his own. “We’re both grown men. I think it’s time to bury the hatchet.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Jefferson said. “Our partners get along now, so there’s no reason why we shouldn’t.”

“I quite agree,” Robin said, extending his hand to the other man as he spoke. “Let’s shake on it and move on.”

The two men shook hands and that was the end of it. Robin doubted they would ever be close friends but at least they’d finally cleared the air. Now if only I could get him to clear the air with Regina, he thought as he and Jefferson went about their business with unpacking and getting their gear in order. He debated calling her and trying to organize a dinner in the hotel restaurant but it was not meant to be: Regina texted him with plans of her own five minutes later – plans that were much more palatable. “It seems my friends Will and Ana have just arrived,” he reported. “Regina wants us to go out to dinner with them, just like we did before NHK Trophy last year. You and Alice wouldn’t want to tag along, would you?” He didn’t think Regina would appreciate the extra hangers on, but it seemed impolite not to ask. And he was determined to be polite even if it killed him.

Jefferson, sensing that he wasn’t wanted, made his regrets. “I wouldn’t want to barge in,” he said, declining the invitation with some well-placed politeness of his own. “Truth be told, I’m exhausted from the flight…”

“Another time perhaps,” Robin said, still maintaining his air of goodwill even as he inched toward the hotel door. “See you later.”

A sigh of relief escaped Robin’s mouth once he was alone in the hallway. He shook off the awkward encounter and went to find Regina, determined to have a good time before the competition started. This won’t be like the last time we were in France, he promised himself. This time I’m competing against equals, not upstarts. I have nothing to worry about.

But the more he tried to convince himself he had nothing to worry about, the more he worried. The practice sessions went well – no accidents this time – but Robin still couldn’t shake the feeling. Was this instinct kicking in? He wondered. He was so accustomed to trusting the evidence of his own eyes and his tangible senses that when something else was amiss – something on a subconscious level – he didn’t know how to react. 

He got his answer after the short dance: the first half of the program went well, but the second the music changed, Robin lost his nerve. A vision of Darling and Pan careening toward them made him sent a swoop of fear through his body before he blinked and the image disappeared. But he’d missed the cue: Regina was already starting her first twizzle and in the rush to catch up with her, Robin’s first twizzle was a full rotation short. This was a worse mistake than getting off unison. This would mean a drop in the level of difficulty and countless points left on the table… he had to make it up. Robin forced himself to power through the non-touching steps, hitting every cue and turn of the blade with deadly precision. The audience clapped appreciatively even as his thighs burned from the effort. I can’t let her down, he scolded himself as they danced through the last few steps. I can’t let us down. 

The program finished and the audience cheered but Robin barely noticed the din. All he could feel was Regina’s hand gripping his tighter than usual as they glided forward take their bows. “What happened to you out there?” she whispered as they skated over to the boards. “That’s the second time you’ve botched the twizzles.” Her tone was less accusatory and more concerned but Robin felt himself sinking as he sat down in the Kiss n Cry. Regina was angry with him. When the marks came up she was going to be so disappointed…

He was right: the mark was lower than the last time they were in France. He looked grimly up at the scoreboard, utterly dazed by what had just happened. Regina and the coaches were already herding him away and he allowed himself to be chivvied along in their wake. Once they were alone in the hall, John turned a grave face to Robin and said, “What the hell was that, Locksley? You completely missed the cue!”  
Sweet lord, even John – easygoing, helpful John – was mad at him. “I…” Robin tried to speak but words failed him. What could he say? I’m sorry, I’m still having visions of nearly crashing into that kid? That I’m turning into a headcase? That I’ve always been insecure with the twizzles and now I’m afraid I’ll never be able to do them properly ever again?

Ursula started to say something, but Regina stepped between Robin and the coaches. “Ursula… John… I’d like to have a moment alone with Robin, please.”

John and Ursula exchanged a look that Robin couldn’t quite interpret in his emotional state. Was that pity? Regret? Damned if he knew. Regina pulled Robin further down the hall and out of earshot. She paused by the janitorial closet to make sure no one was nearby and decided to stop there, just a few feet shy of the open door. “Robin,” she said gently, and her voice brought him back to himself. Just the sound of her saying his name… it sounded like the most beautiful thing in the world. He forced himself to look at her, already preparing an apology, but she shook her head and pulled him into a tight hug. “It’s Pan isn’t it,” she said soothingly as she rubbed his back and pressed herself into him. “He’s still in your head.”

Of course she knew. She always knows. 

“You know there’s only one way to fix this,” Regina continued. “We have to get him out of your head.” She pulled away with a look of determination on her face. “And you can’t do that alone...”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But I don’t know what to do…”

“Shh,” she said soothingly, wrapping her arms around him again. “I’m here for you, Robin. I always am. And so are our coaches. But maybe… maybe you should talk to my sports psychologist too. You can’t bottle all of this up inside, okay? It’s not healthy.”

“I know,” he repeated. “I’ll call her as soon as we get back home.”

“No.” Regina backed away again and crossed her arms. “You will call her tonight. She won’t be around on a Friday night, so you’ll have to leave a message. But… just leaving a message is important. You’ll feel much better once you say what you’re feeling out loud.”

Robin shook his head, stepping closer to her as he did and gently taking her face in his hands. “You’re brilliant,” he said reverently, staring at her all the while. “How is it that you always know what to say?”  
His hands are trembling, she realized as he touched her. How long has he been holding this in? Why didn’t he come to me sooner? She let her own hands find his, weaving their fingers together, anchoring him with her own inner strength. “I’m your partner,” she reminded him. “It’s my job to know these things. And it’s also my job to make sure you don’t ruminate. So come on. Let’s change out of our costumes and watch the rest of the short dance. Then we can grab some takeout and come back to support Elsa in the ladies’ division, okay?”

Robin started to agree but a sound from nearby startled him. “What the hell?” he muttered, looking around for the source of the noise. No one else was nearby… but he’d definitely heard something like the crash of an object hitting the floor. 

Regina was equally bewildered but the janitor’s closet they were standing in front of seemed like the most likely culprit. “Something must have fallen over in there. A broom or a mop or something cumbersome.” She shrugged it off. “Come on, Robin. No wallowing. You won’t overcome this unless you get back on the horse.”

Leave it to Regina to bring horses into this, he thought as he quickly retreated to the men’s dressing room to change out of his costume. But she was right. The last time he’d made a mistake at a competition, she’d indulged and coddled him. But this time she wasn’t taking any prisoners. They got back to the rink in time to watch the final three – Troyes and DuLac, Marvella and Gardiner and Lucas and Booth – and to get the detailed breakdown of their marks. Just as Robin predicted, their twizzles were downgraded from level 4 to level 3 and their grade of execution was negative. Overall they ranked sixth out of six in the short dance and it hurt to see that Swan and Jones were only a point and a half ahead. Without the twizzle mistake, Mills and Locksley would have overtaken them. 

But once again Regina found the silver lining in Robin’s cloud of doubt. “Our PCS mark went up again,” she pointed out. “In fact… we outscored Swan and Jones on PCS and we were just about even with Tremaine and Scarlet. We can still salvage this in the free dance.”

The numbers didn’t lie: Mills and Locksley’s program component score (commonly abbreviated to PCS) had been steadily rising with every competition they did. That meant that their skating skills, performance, execution, linking footwork and transitions between elements were improving despite the technical glitches. Robin had to admit, Regina’s optimism and penchant for reading the numbers was contagious. After a quick bite to eat and a cordial word of congratulations for their competitors, Robin called the sports psychologist and left a message to set up a meeting once they were back in the States. Regina was right: it did feel cathartic to tell someone else how he was feeling. He still felt melancholy about it but at least he was working through it. 

The women’s short program helped lift his spirits a little more: Elsa and her closet rival Kira Yukimura were the class of the field, despite the best efforts of the young Russian contingent. Elsa and Kira’s programs were a study in contrasts: Elsa was skating to an introspective piece called “I’m Not That Girl” from the Wicked original Broadway cast recording and Kira skated to “Sinnerman” by Nina Simone. “They’re both so different,” Regina marveled, “but they’re also both so good.” Another highlight of the ladies’ discipline was Jasmine Hart of Canada: a petite, athletic girl who skated to Lindsey Stirling’s “Crystalize”. “She’s good too,” Regina conceded. Careful now. You’re supposed to be supporting Elsa, she scolded herself. But all the girls at this level were good, she reasoned. One didn’t earn their way to the Grand Prix Final by being average.

It was late by the time they took the shuttle bus back to the hotel. They wondered through the lobby in a daze: post-competition fatigue had set in, making their minds hazy and their movements haphazard. When they got to the elevator, Regina accidentally pressed the down button instead of up. “Aw,” she complained, quickly pressing the correct button to cover her mistake. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“Me too,” Robin agreed as they waited for the elevator to come. He leaned casually against the wall and found some small scrap of confidence within to add, “you’d be welcome to join me.”

Regina chuckled tiredly. “Nice try,” she said, “but not while you’re roomies with Jefferson.”

Robin was about to reminder her that he wasn’t the only one with issues to work through when his eyes lit on a familiar face far across the hotel lobby. A man in his early thirties, tall and handsome with cold eyes… damn it, not him again. “Get in the elevator,” he hissed, giving Regina a gentle shove toward the doors. Mercifully the elevator dinged and slid open just then and Regina stumbled into it with Robin half a step behind her. 

“What the hell!” she protested as Robin slammed the button to close the doors before the man spotted them. But then she looked over Robin’s shoulder and recognition dawned upon her. “Oh no. Not him.” As if sensing their eyes on him, the man turned his cruel gaze on Regina and started toward them with quick, marching steps. “The door! Close the door!” Regina begged as Robin hammered the button relentlessly. The doors swung shut when the man was only a few paces away. Regina slumped against the wall as the elevator started to go up, fumbling in her bag to find her cellphone. “I have to call Guin,” she muttered as she scrolled through her contacts. “And Alice. They’ll both want to know he’s here…”

The elevator slid open again on Regina’s floor but instead of going to her own room, she pounded on Guinevere’s door instead. “Come on, come on!” she whined as she knocked with one hand and raised her phone to her ear with the other. “Answer your damn phone!”

The door was yanked open by a very irate Guinevere in a hotel bathrobe. “What the hell do you want?” Guin demanded as Regina and Robin barged into the room. Lancelot was there too and by the looks of his unbuttoned shirt he wasn’t happy to see them. 

“We’re kind of busy,” Lancelot started to say but Regina cut him off.

“Oh, shut it,” she barked, silencing the protests of the amorous couple. “I just thought you’d want to know: we just saw Arthur Monmouth in the lobby. And he did not look happy to see us.”

****

The rest of the evening was tense. Upon hearing that their ex-coach was in the building, Guinevere flipped out and screamed at everyone to get out while she called security. “She has a restraining order,” Lancelot explained apologetically once the others retreated to the sanctuary of the hallway. “He won’t make it past the lobby.”

During the chaos, Regina sneaked one hallway over and knocked on Alice’s door. But Alice wasn’t there and Regina didn’t have her phone number. She wandered back to the rest of the group, resolving to ask Lancelot but by the time she got back, Robin was alone in the hallway. “He’s back inside with Guin,” Robin reported, “and she’s in a bad way. Crying and cursing.” His expression had turned dejected again and Regina knew she couldn’t bother them now. Not if Guinevere was in the middle of a meltdown. “There is… one other person you could ask,” Robin said hesitantly, not wanting to set Regina off too. “Alice’s partner would surely know her cell number.”

Regina groaned inwardly but she forced herself to march to the room Robin shared with Jefferson. This is the price for saving people, she realized as she trudged along. When you play at being a hero, sometimes you make new enemies in the process. Robin swiped his keycard to let them in and they found Jefferson lounging on his bed with a book. He looked up in alarm at the sight of her and the hardcover slipped from his hands. Regina resisted the urge to laugh. After all this time he’s still afraid of me, she thought. But now was not the time to gloat: she was on a mission. “Hey Jefferson… I was wondering if you had Alice’s phone number. We just ran into her old coach in the lobby and we thought she’d want to know in case he tried to contact her…”

Jefferson’s eyes went wide. “Arthur is here?” He was up in an instant, fishing his phone out of his gym bag and speed dialing Alice. “Damn it, she’s not picking up. I think she went out with Ana…”

“I’ll call Ana then,” Robin suggested, already reaching for his own phone. For a tense moment Regina and Jefferson stared at each other, neither one willing to be the first to break the silence. Robin made contact with Anastasia and Ana quickly relayed the message to Alice. 

Regina sank down on Robin’s bed as the exhaustion hit her again. Damn Arthur, she thought as she fought the urge to lie down and sleep. I need not need a second dose of adrenaline today. The phone rang a minute later and she jolted upright. It was her phone this time.

“They got him!” Lancelot crowed victoriously from the other end of the line. “Gwaine caught him trying to sneak past security. He’s being escorted out and they’re banning him from the venue tomorrow. I doubt we’ll be seeing him again any time soon.”

“Thank God!” Regina breathed as Robin came to sit next to her. “Why the hell would he come here anyway? Doesn’t he have other skaters to coach?”

Jefferson chuckled mirthlessly. “Not anymore. Most of his teams jumped ship after what happened at Worlds last year. Or so I’ve heard.” He shuffled his feet, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “I could go if you two want to hang out for a bit…”

Regina stood up immediately, not wanting to prolong the awkward encounter another minute. “I should turn in anyway,” she said, waving Jefferson off. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she added to Robin, who stood up to walk her to the door. They managed to sneak in a quick kiss before Regina went back to her room and collapsed unceremoniously on the bed. The last half hour had been more stressful than she’d anticipated… then again, no one ever anticipates running into their training mates’ ex-coach on a rampage. I’ll sleep like a baby tonight after all this excitement, she predicted. Her roommate Emma was hogging the bathroom, so Regina forced herself to sit up and change into her pyjamas before she crashed completely. 

She was dozing lightly by the time Emma re-entered the room and nudged her back to wakefulness. “Bathroom’s free,” Emma said with a hint of guilt in her low voice. 

“About damn time,” Regina grumbled. She only had to wash her face and brush her teeth but it seemed like such a hardship to get up again after being asleep. But she was grateful in the morning not to have to wash yesterday’s makeup off before putting a fresh coat on. Stage makeup was a huge part of how Regina got into character. Her look for the short dance was minimal, but her free dance character called for a little something more: shimmery eyeshadow, light blush, a pop of highlighter and a hint of lipstick. After so many years of practice, Regina considered herself an expert with makeup. 

“Damn Mills,” Emma remarked appreciatively. “How do you do that? I’m lucky if I can manage a bit of eyeliner and mascara.”

Regina tried not to let the compliment go to her head. Emma was a pretty girl, but she tended to stick to a basic makeup routine, preferring to use her long blonde hair as a way of differentiating between different characters. Today’s hairstyle was an elaborate braided updo with a feathery hairpiece to tie it all together. “It’s always feathers with you,” Regina said after Emma emerged from her cloud of hairspray. “Not that I’d expect anything less from a girl named Swan.”

Emma shrugged her off. “When you find something that works, you keep doing it.” She smiled. “So, what do you say? Ready for another day at the rink?”

“Hell yeah,” Regina said, never one to shy away from a challenge. Emma’s always more friendly when she’s ahead of me, she added to herself. We’ll see how chatty she is after the free dance.

After a season and a half climbing the ranks, Mills and Locksley weren’t used to being the first couple to skate. Robin looked pale and nervous when Regina met him in the hallway and his distress made her heart drop. He’s still beating himself up for yesterday. No time for that. We still have a job to do. “Come on Locksley.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and forced him to look at her. “You can do this. We can do this.”

Words failed him but he managed to nod his head, buoyed by her confidence. He slipped his hand into hers and permitted himself to be led to the waiting area. All the while, Regina kept uttering mantras and words of encouragement such as “go first and set the bar for the rest” and “sell the story”. With each step, Robin’s confidence grew. By the time their names were called for the warmup be was almost back to his old self. He led them out onto the ice, testing his blades against the freshly cleaned surface before kicking off and taking a lap with her hand-in-hand. With every push of his blades against the ice, he felt his confidence return. He was a skater. This was what he was born to do.

If yesterday’s short dance was a nightmare for Robin, the free dance was like a dream. When she asked him about it later, Robin would tell Regina that yesterday’s brush with Arthur Monmouth had frightened away all thoughts of the upstart Peter Pan and the near-accident at the French Grand Prix. Knowing that Arthur had once again been dealt with gave Robin a boost of confidence that propelled him through the program with ease and grace. Regina was astounded by the change in him. Sometimes I forget, she said to herself, that as much as he praises my inner strength, he’s not exactly lacking in that department himself. Seeing Robin do better made her want to do better too, so Regina threw herself into the character of the dance and together they soared. The audience roared their approval with a partial standing ovation at the end and Regina felt tears of joy prickling at the corners of her eyes. They’d put yesterday’s mistakes behind them and proved once again that they were contenders.

Regina didn’t cry until they were alone in the hallway. “One hundred and two points,” she murmured against Robin’s chest as he held her close. “A personal best. I don’t even know why I’m crying…”

Robin was overcome as well. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and whirl her around but practicality (and propriety) won out. They quietly swapped their skates for running shoes and snuck into the lounge to watch the rest of the competition on the monitor. Swan and Jones were up next, skating their long-awaited free dance to “Swan Heart” by Nightwish. Regina liked the program: the music gradually built toward a dramatic crescendo highlighted by death-defying lifts but Robin thought the step sequences lacked complexity. Swan and Jones earned 99 points for their efforts and their combined total put them just below Mills and Locksley in the standings. Regina resisted the urge to gloat.

Tremaine and Scarlet skated next, also opting for the dramatic route, using music form the band Epica. The first part of the program to “Tides of Time” was melancholy and beautiful but it grew into something more dramatic in the second half when the music switched to the instrumental version of “Blank Infinity”. Overall Regina thought the young Brits looked more mature than last season and the judges agreed: their final score was 101 – they would finish behind Mills and Locksley in the free dance but their combined total would be enough for them to hold onto fourth place overall. It was the closest Robin had ever come to beating his old teammates. 

Troyes and DuLac’s Amelie routine was a change of pace from the last two dramatic programs. The quirky choreography and innovative movement of the piece gave Troyes and DuLac a creative edge over the other teams in the group. Today they scored 105 – a season’s best. Lucas and Booth faltered for the first time in years, only earning a 104 for their free dance. Once again their combined total kept them ahead of the French team but Regina could see the look of concern on Ruby Lucas’s face even on the tiny screen. They had also skated to Nightwish and Regina wondered if they regretted their choice, even though they’d used different selections than Swan and Jones. “Forget the Battle of the Hamiltons. It’s shaping up to be the Battle of the Nightwishes this season,” she whispered in awe. “And I’m not surprised. With Worlds being in Finland.”

Marvella and Gardiner ended up winning the event with a score of 106 for their free dance to music from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice soundtrack. It was a subtle, classical program after an event of drama and innovation. Jefferson does make a good Mr. Darcy, Regina had to admit. And Alice, with her sweet effervescence, was the perfect Lizzie Bennet. The program suited them very well and she wasn’t upset to see them take the win this time. “Lucas and Booth weren’t on today,” she concluded after the event wrapped up. “I thought August was sluggish in the second half. Loved the choreography though.”

“I hope the poor chap’s alright,” Robin added. “I thought he looked a bit pale.”

Robin’s diagnosis proved true: August had been battling a nasty headcold in the days leading up to the Final but he opted to skate anyway. He took a turn for the worse after the free dance and rumours started to fly around the stadium that they would drop out of the exhibition gala. In the break between the free dance and the women’s free program, Regina’s cellphone rang with the confirmation.

“I hope you don’t mind – I got your number from Emma,” Ruby Lucas said over the phone. “But I wanted to be the one to tell you since this affects you and Robin… we can’t do the gala tomorrow, so someone needs to replace us. You and Robin are the next in line…”

Regina gave Robin, who was listening in, a brief nod before responding. “Thank you for telling me.” It was classy of her to make the call herself with everything else that’s going on, Regina thought. I knew I always liked her. “Tell August we hope he feels better soon,” she added. Better a cold than an injury, she added to herself. “We enjoyed your program very much. I especially liked the step sequence to “Arabesque” at the end.”

She heard Ruby chuckle softly. “That’s my favourite part too.”

They chatted for a few more minutes until Ruby was called away to be interviewed by the media. Feeling a mixture of pride at being chosen to sub in at the gala and a twinge of guilt for Lucas and Booth’s bad luck, Regina had trouble concentrating on the women’s free program. Her mind wandered while Jasmine Hart skated to music from the recent Sinbad television show and through Kira Yukimura’s Pacific Rim program. It wasn’t until Elsa took to the ice to skate her Game of Thrones program that she finally came back to life. “Holy shit,” she marveled, unable to take her eyes off the drama unfolding on the ice. “Since when did our sweet little Elsa become the Mother of Dragons?”

“She certainly has the hairstyle for it,” Robin agreed.

But in the end, neither Elsa nor Kira had the top mark in the free skate. One of the little double-jointed Russian girls came out on top with her lightning fast spins and perfect jump technique. Everyone was shocked – Kira and Elsa looked dazed at the medal ceremony and the little girl who won looked petrified to be up there with the older ladies. Elsa and Kira won’t take that lying down, Regina thought shrewdly. They’ve worked too long and hard to be taken out by some little sonogram on skates. All in all it was an event of shockers. Even the undefeated Mills and Crane came second to a younger Chinese pair. 

“I’m not sure how many more shocks I can take,” Regina joked to Robin after they returned to the hotel for the night. “Abbie Mills looked ready for mutiny.”

Robin smiled tiredly. The post-competition crash was hitting him and he felt ready to sleep for several days. “At least the gala should be shock-free. It’s a good thing our coaches insisted we bring our exhibition program costumes with us.”

Regina grimaced at the thought of having to wear the wrong costume for a program. How could she get into character if she didn’t have the right tools? “I hate to be sneaking in there because of Booth’s illness but… I love skating our exhibition with you. In fact… I like it even better than last season’s.”

Robin leaned in to steal a goodnight kiss. “I remember how much you liked last year’s. We seem to be making a name for ourselves with these sexy exhibition programs.” His eyebrows wiggled knowingly.

Regina couldn’t resist kissing him again before saying goodnight. Once was never enough. “It’s easy to skate a sexy program when you’re attracted to your partner,” she said, disguising her sleepiness with that low, suggestive tone she knew he liked. “Gives a whole new meaning to the word “exhibition”.”

Naughty girl, he thought fondly. “Don’t you worry, milady. I’ll give you a proper exhibition when we get home.”


	10. As Long as You're Mine

Regina’s exhibition costume was a work of art.

Or so Alice Marvella said in the dressing room on the day of the exhibition gala. “I knew you guys were skating to Wicked, but this is just… outstanding,” Alice gushed as Regina zipped up her dress.

Regina couldn’t resist preening a little. The dress was based on Elphaba’s act two costume, shortened and simplified to make it more streamlined and less heavy to skate in. “Thanks Alice. Mal really outdid herself this time.” 

“She really did,” Anastasia chimed in. “You’re making me feel underdressed.” Ana and Will were skating to the theme from Doctor Who for their exhibition, with Ana invoking the character of Rose Tyler in a Union Jack shirt and simple skirt. 

“Don’t be silly: you look very in character,” Regina admonished her. 

Ana was impressed that Regina recognized her. “I didn’t know you were a Whovian.”

“Robin made me watch it with him,” Regina admitted. “But then I got kind of into it too.”

Ana and Alice exchanged commiserating looks. “We’ll have to all get together for a marathon sometime,” Ana suggested.

“Or a costume party,” Alice added shrewdly. 

The three girls laughed merrily and continued to chat. Guinevere was the last to arrive in the change room, looking tired from last night’s excitement but still determined. She beckoned to Regina join her in the corner so they could talk privately. “I wanted to thank you for warning me about Arthur,” Guinevere said in a low voice. “I know you and I still don’t know each other very well, but… maybe that’s my fault. We’ve been training together for months now but sometimes I get so caught up in my own problems I forget I’m not the only one at the rink. And I forget how good you’ve become.”

Regina tried not to let the praise go to her head but she felt her lips quirk into a hesitant smile nonetheless. “I’m still not as good as you,” she said, trying to brush it off, but Guinevere just shook her head.

“Not yet,” the other girl said. “But in another season, who knows.”

Regina watched Guinevere walk away, mind reeling. Was she trying to psych me out or does she really believe that? She pondered as she made her way to the holding area. It was true that Mills and Locksley were improving with every competition, but their closest rivals were constantly improving as well. Overall the level of skating was at an all-time high because there were so many good teams pushing each other to be better and keep improving. It was surreal to be part of such a skilled, talented group and Regina was finally starting to feel as if she belonged.

Mills and Locksley were scheduled to skate early, which would give them a chance to watch the others from backstage afterward. Standing under the dim lighting with Robin by her side, Regina felt him reach out for her in the dark and wrap his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him with a contented sigh. Here in the dark below the bleachers no one could see them. They could be themselves for a moment before they had to get into character again to tell the clamoring audience another love story. “Someone’s feeling extra affectionate,” Regina teased as she relaxed into his embrace. “What brought this on?” His lips caught the side of her neck and a little gasp escaped her throat. He was breaking their PDA rule by a technicality: lurking in the dark like this, they were still in public but no one could see them. It felt… wicked and naughty, truth be told. Regina felt herself shiver with the hope of more to come. “Or is this just your way of getting into character as the handsome captain of the guard who runs off with the witch?”

“Or I just missed you,” he said simply as he nuzzled her, “and you smell lovely.”

“Hmm.” She pulled away reluctantly. “Let’s continue that when we get home, shall we?”

Robin’s eyebrows wiggled playfully and he gave her one more kiss for good measure. “Thought you’d never ask.”

When they took to the ice, a sense of calm washed over Regina that she rarely ever felt. She loved exhibitions because she still got to perform without the pressure of being judged. She could fully escape into her character and the story they told for three and a half minutes without any of her usual competitive quirks or fears. And this program, when performed to its full potential, was a showstopper.

They started off kneeling facing each other on the ice, echoing the staging of the scene in the musical. They breathed together and rose up on their knees, Robin offering his partner a hand to pull her up. The slower pace of the music gave them time to accentuate every little movement and nuance of the lyrics: a subtle look here, a soft touch there, footwork leading into the chorus and an elegant lift. They were constantly reaching for each other like the young couple in the play finally confessing their forbidden love. The program was designed to have them circling around each other and moving closer and closer, all while maintaining contact. Choreographically the steps were unrushed and simple: gone were the complex holds and deep curving arcs of the free dance, replaced by simple hand-in-hand holds and slow, measured blade work. The program ended with two back to back lifts: a layback lift that had Robin supporting Regina by the thighs and a rotational lift timed to the crescendo of the music. They ended the program wrapped in each other’s others under a swell of applause from the boisterous audience. 

Regina stayed frozen in Robin’s arms, soaking in every second of their praise. This was what made it all worth it: appreciation and love for a job well done. They did their usual bow and wave and skated off, content to watch the rest of the show from backstage. For once Regina found herself with little to say after skating. Usually she was the first one to break down and analyse a performance but today she felt so calm and comfortable that all she wanted to do was hold Robin’s hand and enjoy the rest of the gala. So she did: Tremaine and Scarlet’s Doctor Who program was a big hit and Elsa skated all out to “All the King’s Horses” by Karmina. Troyes and DuLac and Marvella and Gardiner opted for pop music selections, skating to Rihanna’s “Stay” and Sam Smith’s “Writing’s on the Wall” respectively. Kira Yukimura did a fun routine to “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen and Mills and Crane did theirs to “Proud Mary”. Overall it was an entertaining afternoon of show skating and Regina enjoyed every minute of it.

The only thing more enjoyable than an afternoon of skating was the evening of post-competitive fooling around he’d promised her. They arrived back home too late to do anything more than crash into a deep sleep but tomorrow was Monday and for once they didn’t have to be up early to train. But poor Tink did: their housemate was gone at her customary early hour, leaving Regina and Robin with the entire townhouse to themselves.

Their day got off to a languid, lazy start. Regina snuck into Robin’s room to wake him up and after a flurry of sleepy kisses, they made their way downstairs to cook breakfast together. Regina sat on the counter, watching Robin flip the omelettes with the utmost care. There’s something so sexy about a man who can cook, she thought with a touch of pride as he presented her plated meal and a cup of coffee. Robin mumbled something about needing more groceries but Regina cut him off with another kiss. “Don’t talk to me about groceries,” she whined after pulling away for a quick breath of air. “Tell me about something else.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “Whatever did you have in mind, milady?”

Regina grinned victoriously and swooped in for the kill. “Tell me what you want to do with me.”

Robin let out a slow breath and bit his lip as be considered her. A dozen dirty scenarios flashed through his mind, but he settled on one of the tamer ones for starters. “I wouldn’t mind helping you out of that sweater,” he considered, eyeing the hint of cleavage exposed by her v-neck. 

Regina leaned back and made a show of slowly stretching her arms over her head. “Help away, handsome. Lucky for you, I was feeling a little warm after that hot coffee.”

His hands purposefully grazed her soft skin as he lifted the sweater over her head. “Shall I fold it for you or would you rather…”

Regina snatched the sweater out of his hands. “Making fun of my organizational skills?” She huffed and moved in the direction of the stairs, taking the sweater with her. “I’ll fold it myself. You’ll wrinkle it.” She padded up the stairs, quickening her pace when she heard him coming after her. She raced to her bedroom, folding the sweater and depositing it on her dresser before Robin caught up to her and pulled her into another hungry kiss. She kissed him back with aplomb, catching his lower lip between her teeth and sucking lightly. Robin let out a groan and grabbed at her waist, hoisting her up in his arms and carrying her over to the bed. 

“So…” he said as he lowered her to the mattress, “what will it be today, my lovely?”

Regina played it coy. “Why don’t you try something and I’ll tell you if I like it or not?” she suggested, licking her lips in anticipation.

Robin regarded her with the utmost seriousness. It was no small thing for her to trust him with her body, though she put herself in his hands every day at the rink, he still handled her with care off the ice. Even now, as his thumbs coasted over her ribcage, his touch was feather light against her skin. It wasn’t much, but it had her arching her back off the mattress and reaching up to take hold of his shoulders to pull him closer. His hands slid up toward her bra, taking the time to admire the blue satin that covered her breasts, before leaning down to kiss her neck. “I think I’ll start here,” he murmured against her skin, trailing ever so lightly with his mouth as she sighed contentedly beneath him. “Sit up with me,” he suggested, easing back up to let her sit in his lap. “I want to see you.”

Regina straddled him and let her arms wrap around his shoulders. “I think you’ll like the view from this angle,” she teased before giving his lower lip another playful nibble. 

“You look good from every angle,” he insisted as he reached up to cup her breasts. Regina let out a gasp at the contact, even with the padded fabric still between them. Robin gave her breasts a squeeze and earned another moan from her. “And these look good too,” he added, eyeing her cleavage hopefully. 

Regina laughed and wriggled out of his grasp. “Still obsessed with boobs, I see.”

Robin shrugged, never taking his eyes off her. “When they’re as nice as yours you can hardly blame me,” he pointed out. 

“Fair enough,” she conceded. She snuggled closer to him, pressing herself up against his body. Robin took her meaning and reached for her hips instead, anchoring her against him with his strong hands. “Are you going to try something else?” she suggested.

Robin’s hands left her hips and reached around to cup her bottom instead. “This, for starters,” he said, giving her another squeeze. “Or perhaps this?” he suggested, letting one hand slip between her thighs. Even through her jeans the light stroke of his fingers made her gasp. “Hmm. I love the little sounds you make,” he whispered as he continued to rub at her. “I wonder…” he slowed his hand and looked up at her. “I wonder how loud I can make you moan…”

Oh damn it, she conceded. He knows how weak this is making me. “Let me get out of these jeans and you can find out for yourself,” she managed to say, already caught up in the heat of the moment. She got up to divest herself of the thick denim, making Robin laugh as she quickly folded them and deposited them neatly on top of her discarded sweater. “Yeah sure, make fun of me for being neat. You love it.”

I love you, he thought but he still balked at saying it. He’d rather show her how much he loved her with his hands and his mouth than seduce her with pretty speeches. And there was one sure fire way to let her know how deep his appreciation went. Not that he was capable of saying much while she was standing in front of him wearing nothing but her matching bra and knickers, her body angled conveniently just out of his reach. Taking pity on him, Regina crawled back over to his place on the bed and lowered herself into his lap once more. His gaze traveled shamelessly over her exposed skin, taking the time to admire every little detail. “You’re stunning,” he whispered as his hands coasted up her bare thighs. His hands paused at the hinge of her hips and he caught her eye, seeking permission to do more. 

She shook her head and gave the collar of his t-shirt a little tug. “One of us is still wearing too much clothing,” she pointed out as her hands trailed down his chest. “We’ll have to do something about that,” she continued, taking hold of the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. “As good as this looks on you, it’s really cramping my style.”

“So you think I’ll look better without it?” he whispered, catching the side of her neck with his lips again and kissing her heartily before continuing. He teased her, licking playfully at her skin and nipping her gently, until she let out a whine of impatience. 

“What do you – oh!” Regina gasped as Robin’s hand slipped between her legs again. He was rubbing at her over her panties and already she could feel her arousal making itself apparent. Oh, that’s unfair. He knows exactly how I like it. “You want to use your fingers on me again?” she managed to murmur, even as she started to rock against him, her hips moving with the steady stroke of his fingers.

But Robin shook his head and slowed his hand. “Oh no, my lovely. This is just to get you warmed up.”

The loss of stimulation almost made her weep. “Warmed up… for what?”

Robin grinned again and gave her bottom another squeeze. “For when I taste you.” He gave her underwear a little tug, pulling them down so he could slip his fingers inside. Regina moaned and nodded, reveling in the sinful things he was doing to her. “You feel good,” he said softly as he eased her toward the edge of the bed. “Is this okay?”

“Um.” Regina let out a nervous breath. “I’ve only done this once before…”

Robin grinned as he pulled her panties the rest of the way down and sunk down on his knees before her. That’s much better, he thought. As much as he appreciated her lingerie, its presence had outlived its usefulness. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, taking a moment to press a kiss to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her legs quaked, loosening for him so he could kneel between them. “If it’s too much…”

“I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” she promised, even as her pulse quickened from the mere brush of his lips over her skin. If her heart was already hammering just from this, what was it going to be like when he…  
His tongue rolled over her and she let out a sharp moan. Robin jerked his head up in alarm, just in time to see her head fall back and her eyes fall shut. “My goodness. You are quite vocal, aren’t you?” Just my luck, he crowed. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Yeah right, she thought. “I’m going to enjoy it more,” she insisted. He was already on the move, kissing his way up her thigh, closer and closer to her centre. And when he finally got there his tongue flicked out, catching her most sensitive spot. He stayed there, setting a slow and steady pace of playful licks that had her crying out and grabbing at his shoulders for purchase. It felt like falling – as if she would slip from the precarious edge of the bed and crash right into him. Words tumbled out of her mouth, desperate begging for him not to stop, to keep going, to push her over the edge and he responded in kind, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring her to her peak.

The moan that escaped her throat when she came was almost feral – her back arched sharply and then she really was falling: falling back against the mattress, heart pounding and blood rushing, completely overtaken. She was vaguely aware of Robin getting up and coming to lie down beside her but she was too far gone to do anything about it. She heard something like laugh – just a soft chuckle – and then his lips were on hers again, only this time when he kissed her, she tasted herself in his mouth. “Oh,” she managed to say, still overcome. “That was…”

Robin chuckled again, tilting her face toward his. Even through her half-closed eyes, his victorious smile was unmistakable. He had enjoyed it – not for his own pleasure, but for the privilege of being the only man who could bring her to such heights of passion. “You’re so sexy,” he whispered, caressing her cheek with a gentle hand. How he could still be so gentle after almost swallowing her whole she couldn’t fathom. “I loved listening to you revel.”

Regina felt herself blushing so she turned her face away. She’d been loud – far too loud. They’d never be able to do anything like this while poor Tink was in the house. Not unless she found a way to turn down the volume. It took ages for her heart rate to drop back to a reasonable level and in the end she simply gave up and ignored the pounding in her chest while she took him in hand again and brought him along. He made noises too – deep sounds in his throat, as if to tease her for how loud she’d been. She felt a twinge of guilt for returning to her old standby after he’d just had his mouth all over her, but as much as she wanted to try, she didn’t feel completely comfortable returning that particular favour just yet. And he seemed satisfied with her warm hands and nimble fingers for now. Anything more would be a bridge she would only cross when she came to it.

Not that Robin minded. She did a far better job with her elegant fingers than he ever managed to do for himself and he got to feast his eyes on her stunning figure instead of just imagining it. Even the thin sheen of sweat on her skin was stunning. Regina mumbled something about needing to take a shower but Robin wrapped his arms around her and refused to relinquish his hold. “I’m not letting you get away that easily,” he teased, trailing kisses down her neck again. 

Regina pretended to pout and give him the evil eye but she couldn’t fool him anymore. He knew her too well. “I’m all sweaty though,” she complained. “Someone’s gotten me all hot and bothered.”

“Hmm. Perhaps a shower’s a good thing then,” Robin reasoned. “I could use one too, now that I’m thinking about it.”

He only meant to tease, but Regina was up in an instant. “You’re on.”

He gaped at her, shaking his head to clear away the cobwebs. “Really?”

Regina shrugged. “You’ve already seen me half-naked. Might as well finish the job. But no funny business this time. We’re taking a shower to wash the sweat away, not to get dirtier.”

In that moment, Robin would have done anything she asked. And as hard as it was to resist the urge to back her up against the bathroom wall, his respect for her always won out over his more primal urges. He wanted her in every possible way, but only when he was certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was what she wanted to. So far everything had been wonderful: the slow tease of exploring each other’s bodies and the way she would cry out and cling to him was pure magic. But something was holding her back. And whatever it was, Robin knew he couldn’t force it out of her. She would have to tell him in her own time. So for the moment, he helped wash her hair and kissed her again and again under the stream of hot water. She seemed comfortable now despite her blatant nakedness. She didn’t even seem to mind the way his gaze kept roving. It wasn’t until they were out of the shower and wrapped in fluffy towels that the mood shifted. Regina caught Robin’s eye in the mirror and suddenly she looked terrified. He made to move toward her but she shifted, pulling herself out of range of his reaching arms.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, afraid that the slightest thing might set her off. “Did I do something…”

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed and gripping the bathroom counter for leverage. “Nothing’s wrong,” she whispered. “I’m just feeling a little…”

“Overwhelmed?” he guessed. She nodded in the mirror. “Aw, love. If that’s all it takes to get you overwhelmed…”

“Don’t tease me,” she said, finding her fire again. “It’s easy to get overwhelmed when you haven’t had much in your life to get overwhelmed by.” 

Sensing that she was calming down again, Robin reached for her waist and turned her around. “You trust your instincts, don’t you?” 

What a silly question. He knew she relied more on instinct than anything else.

“So what are your instincts telling you now?” he continued. He stepped closer and let his hands fall to her hips. “Should I keep going or are you still too overwhelmed?”

Her knees buckled dangerously, forcing her to grab onto him to steady herself. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “I don’t want to keep making you wait but… damn it Robin, I’m scared. I’m scared and I don’t know why…”

He pulled her into a protective embrace and she went willingly, melting against him. “I know why,” he whispered as he rubbed her back. 

“You do?”

“I know you,” he continued. “I know you hate feeling as if you’re not in control. When you skate, you can control your blades and your movements because you’ve been doing it your whole life. But off the ice…”

Regina sighed and pulled far enough away to look into his eyes again. “Off the ice I never learned how to date so I don’t know how to control myself around you,” she admitted. “So I’m stuck between wanting to just kiss you and wanting to screw your brains out. It’s maddening.”

Robin chuckled and reached up to cup her face in his hands. “I love it when you put things so bluntly.”

Regina sighed again and her trembling fingers came up to wrap around his wrist. Her touch was feather light but filled with purpose because at least in this she could be confident. She held his hand every day at the rink. By now she knew his hands better than she knew her own. “I’m not going to make you wait forever,” she promised. “I think I’m just scared because…” she trailed off, casting about for the right words. But there was only one word she could use that came anywhere near summing up how she really felt. “I’m scared because I’m in love with you and…”

Robin’s breath left him in a rush as he pulled her into a kiss. For so many weeks he’d struggled, trying to find the best way to tell her how he felt and now she’d beaten him to it. The kiss surprised her, a little gasp of shock dying on her lips as she kissed him back, arms wrapping around his waist to pull him against her again. Robin broke the kiss reluctantly, taking a moment to relish the feel of her in his arms and to let his forehead come to rest against hers. “I’m in love with you too.”

She made a noise – something between a sob and a giggle – and kissed him again. “You idiot,” she murmured, her lips lingering close to his. “How long have you been sitting on that?”

“Weeks,” he confessed. “Months maybe.”

She shook her head and took his face in her hands. “Why didn’t you say something? I knew something was bothering you too. Were you… were you afraid too? That I didn’t feel the same way?”

“I was terrified.”

“Oh Robin.” She shook her head. “Look at us. We’re quite a pair with our repressed emotions. Just… promise me you won’t keep burying your feelings up like this. You can tell me anything.”

“I will from now on,” he promised. “Can we… can I just kiss you again? Sometimes I just need to kiss you too.”

Regina tilted her head to the side and beckoned him closer. “I love that you still ask for permission,” she murmured as he leaned in. 

“Hmm.” He let his lips brush against hers ever so lightly. “Always have to make sure.”

“And I love you for it.” She looked him right in the eye and said it again. “I love you. I should have told you sooner…”

“I should have told you too,” he whispered, pulling her back into his arms. “Can you forgive me for being a hard-headed, typical man?”

Regina laughed and lifted her head from his shoulder. “We both know you’re anything but typical. And that hard-headedness comes in handy in competitions.”

“But it’s not as desirable off the ice,” he pointed out.

“True,” she conceded, “but I forgive you anyway. It’s not as if you have the monopoly on hard-headedness around here.”

Robin grinned, his confidence regained. “I happen to find your stubbornness rather alluring.”

Regina scoffed. “Only you would.”

Robin’s grin grew wider and he swooped in for another kiss. “I’m not afraid of a challenge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks. It took me ages to write this chapter because I'm having a hard time writing the smutty parts. Believe me, no one wants these two to get it on more than me, but I also want them to make it to the Olympics before the actual Olympics start again. I can't promise what the smut to skating ratio is going to be from here on out, but at the end of the day I'm better at writing about skating. But worry not! They're gonna bang. I promise.


	11. Nationals

The holiday season, and the blissful time away from competitive ice that went with it, was over all too soon. Nationals loomed on the horizon and the record snowfall kept the skaters huddled indoors under blankets during their off-hours. Training for Nationals was going well, which was why Regina was not surprised when something happened to throw a wrench in her otherwise perfect life. That something came in the form of the latest article in Sidney Glass’s skating tabloid. Snow called Regina in a panic a week before the competition and Regina had to admit she hadn’t looked at the Ice Mirror in ages.

“I told everyone I wasn’t going to indulge that creep by buying any more copies of his trashy little magazine,” Regina reminded Snow once Snow slowed down enough to let her get a word into the conversation. “I don’t care what he writes.”

“But Regina!” Snow protested, sighing emphatically into the receiver. “He’s totally slandering you and Robin!”

“You mean libeling, not slandering,” Regina corrected, but Snow continued on. 

“He made it sound like Robin was terrified of competing against Pan again.” Snow paused to let that information sink in. “But that’s silly. You guys beat him fair and square in Paris. Did something else happen?” A note of panic had crept into Snow’s voice and Regina could picture her biting her nails.

Regina cleared her throat so sharply she heard Snow let out a squeak. “I don’t know where Sidney Glass is getting his information from, but he couldn’t be more wrong.” Robin’s extra sessions with the sports psychologist had worked wonders, but a reminder of the accident in Paris was the last thing either of them needed right before Nationals. How could Sidney know that Robin was still off-balance because of what happened in Paris? He couldn’t have been listening in while I tried to talk him down. He’s just guessing. Grasping desperately at straws was bound to turn up a kernel of truth every so often. Sidney already seemed to hate Robin, so of course he’d go after him instead of me. It’s pure coincidence that he happened to be right this time. But then again, even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Can I send him a cease and desist?” she wondered out loud. 

“I think you need a lawyer for that,” Snow fretted.

“What I need,” Regina said, “is to make sure Sidney Glass never bothers me ever again.”

Snow sniffled. “But how are you going to do that?”

“I’m not sure yet. But… I’ll have to come up with something.” Robin’s worked too hard to put that accident behind him. I’m not letting all that progress be undone overnight by some busybody journalist. Regina ended the call and threw her cellphone down on the sofa with a little harrumph of disgust. This was the last thing she needed right now. What if Robin saw the article? He wasn’t reading the Ice Mirror anymore either, but what if someone else saw it and mentioned it to him? She contemplated not telling him but her resolve crumbled the minute Robin walked into the living room and saw the lingering look of doubt on her face.

“Bad news from Snow?” he inquired, sliding into place next to her on the couch and draping an arm around her shoulders.

She couldn’t lie, not even by omission. They’d gotten even closer during the holidays – sneaking moments whenever Tink was out of the house or otherwise occupied – and she couldn’t find it in her heart to conceal the truth from the man who knew her so well that he’d call her out for it the second he suspected she was hiding something. “Apparently Sidney wrote another article about us,” she said, making no effort to mask the disgust in her voice. “Just in time for Nationals.”

Robin made a face. “Nasty little surprise. At least he had the decency to wait until after Christmas.” He shuffled closer to Regina and rested his chin in her shoulder, nudging her playfully with his nose. “Worried it will throw me off my game?” He looked up at her, his big eyes twinkling innocently. 

Regina sighed heavily and leaned against him. “It’s just more pressure we don’t need,” she said dejectedly. “Last year there were four great teams at the national level. This year there are five. Even though we’re doing better this season, it’s never going to get easier.”

“The US Skating Federation knows we did well at the Final,” Robin reminded her, his voice a low, soothing whisper. “You needn’t be anxious, love. We’ve got this.”

“I’d feel a lot better if Sidney Glass walked into traffic,” she muttered darkly. 

Her morbid proclamation only served to amuse him. “Now that would be a sight.”

She had no snappy retort for that comment – only a stifled yawn. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” he said, giving her shoulder a little nudge. “I know how much you love your beauty rest.”

She smirked, finding her bravado again. “I like it better when you stay with me.”

Robin was always happy to oblige, whether it be for cuddles or something more intimate. Robin spent more nights in Regina’s room than he did in his own these days. In the lead up to Nationals they were both too tired from training to do anything extra vigorous, but they were managing to keep their more carnal urges in check with the touch of a hand here or the tease of a mouth there. It had gotten easier after she’d told him the depth of her feelings. Regina didn’t feel overwhelmed anymore and while she didn’t feel completely secure either, she wasn’t worried. Everything they did together felt as natural as breathing. More would come in its own time.

But intimacy would be the least of their worries at Nationals. The short flight to Kansas City was uneventful – Robin napped most of the way and Regina read a book – but once the plane hit the tarmac, a new problem presented itself. After waiting nearly an hour at baggage claim, Robin’s suitcase was nowhere to be found. After watching him squeeze his eyes shut as if to ward off the nightmare, Regina forced him to march to the lost luggage desk and make a report. “We have a few days off. I’m sure your stuff will be here by the time we have to compete,” she assured him. “And at least you had the good sense to put your skates in your carry-on.”

“But my costumes.” And my clothes and my pyjamas and my underwear, he added to himself. What the hell am I going to do? He looked up at her, hollow-eyed and morose. 

“Come on,” she said soothingly. There was no point coddling him when he got into one of his self-deprecating moods. He needed distracting. “We’re going shopping.”

****

One trip to the local outlet mall later, Robin had a new pair of pyjamas, a change of clothes, undergarments and a new set of workout gear. He let Regina make the selections – he’d never been much of a shopper and she knew his taste well enough. But it wasn’t just the loss of his clothes and costumes that had him down. His sketchbook and art supplies had been in his suitcase too.

Not being able to create – not being able to sort through his emotions by expressing them on paper – left him feeling strangely drained and full of conflicting thoughts all at once. By the time his roommate at the hotel – Jefferson again – showed up, Robin had already doodled all over the first page of the hotel stationery with a cheap ballpoint pen. 

“Travelling light?” Jefferson inquired when he saw Robin’s carry-on and shopping bags on the bed. “Oh. Shit. Did they lose your luggage?”

Robin nodded morosely, barely looking up from his scribbles.

“And Regina took you shopping?” Jefferson continued. “She didn’t make you try on any plaid shirts, did she?”

Robin managed a half-smile. “Nah. She has a good eye for fashion.”

Jefferson nodded. “I remember that about her. She was always the best dressed girl at the banquets.” He unzipped his rolling suitcase and started to dig through the contents. “How tall are you, anyway? I might have a spare pair of costume pants you can borrow…”

The pants ended up being too long but Robin was grateful for the offer. “I’ll just hike ‘em up a bit,” he decided. “Go for that Steve Urkel look.”

“If you could find a black shirt it wouldn’t be as noticeable,” Jefferson considered. “I should call Killian, see if he has anything he could lend you… or maybe not, he’s a bit slighter than you. And Frederick’s too tall… what about that Pan kid? You roomed with him in Paris, right? Would he help you out?”

Robin grimaced at the thought. “Not bloody likely. He hates my guts. And he’s shorter than me anyway. Maybe I’ll ask David or one of the other pairs guys…”

It took some doing, but Robin managed to cobble together a makeshift costume using Jefferson’s too-long pants and a shirt borrowed from David. He snapped a selfie and sent it to Regina, who texted back her approval right away:

Regina: I always thought black was my colour, but it works on you too ;)

 

“Now that we have that sorted out, let’s grab a bite to eat,” Jefferson suggested. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“I’m a bit peckish myself,” Robin admitted. “Losing one’s luggage and having to scramble about to find a new costume burns more calories than I expected.”

“Do you think Regina would join us?” Jefferson asked, “or is she still determined to avoid me forever?”

“Only one way to find out.” Robin took out his phone again and texted her back:

Robin: would you be okay with joining Jefferson for dinner? Or would you rather it was just us?

Regina texted back with haste:

Regina: is Alice coming?

Robin: let me ask.

Robin looked up from his phone to see Jefferson looking at him expectantly. “She wants to know if Alice is coming,” he reported. “I think she’ll feel better if she has someone else she can talk to,” he added. It would be awkward as hell if it’s just her me and her ex-partner. If Alice is there

“I’ll text her,” Jefferson offered, catching Robin’s meaning. 

Alice agreed, much to the relief of both men and twenty minutes later they were seated comfortably at a booth in the hotel restaurant with a platter of appetizers. Or at least somewhat comfortably: Regina was sitting as far away from Jefferson as possible but she was in good spirits otherwise. Alice, playing peacemaker, was doing most of the talking. She babbled about their competitors and about the upcoming press conference, a serene smile on face all the while. “I’m roommates with Wendy Darling this time,” she reported, somewhere in the break between the appetizers and the main course. “She seems lovely. It’s a shame about that partner of hers.”

Jefferson offered a wry chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve heard anything nice about that kid. Is he really as rude as everyone’s saying?”

“Worse,” Robin quipped. “And in my opinion, no amount of talent can make up for poor sportsmanship. It reflects poorly on all of us.”

“But they’re at least half-decent, right?” Jefferson went on. “I’m sure we’re secure in the order of succession, but Swan and Jones have been having a bad season and Aurelius and Jameson lost all that training time with her injury. If Darling and Pan can sneak in, it might not bode well for the other two teams.”

“It really depends on if he can shelve the attitude long enough to skate a decent program,” Regina spoke up, looking at Jefferson for the first time. “Their short dance is good, but their free dance is too sophisticated for a youthful team. I predict the FD will be their downfall.”

Regina’s bold prediction played out right before her eyes, much to the horror of Regina herself and her competitors. A new system to determine the order of skating was implemented, so rather than skating in order of World standings, the skate order was determined by random draw. Mills and Locksley had the dubious honour of skating first – something they hadn’t done in a long time. Robin, still in his borrowed costume, was determined to make the most of it. 

“It’s not ideal but it’s like you used to say: go early and set the bar for the rest of the field,” he said, recalling one of Regina’s favourite old mantras.

“You’re damn right,” she agreed. “And don’t worry about the costume. The all-black look will show off your lines better anyway.”

Robin grinned and squeezed her hand as they made their way to centre ice. “I know how well you like my lines, milady.”

She grinned back as she took her starting pose. “Best in the business.”

Going first ended up being a balm on Robin’s shattered nerves. He was still worried about his missing luggage but having something else to focus on made him forget for long enough to put down a season’s best performance. Regina was right: the plain black costume, without its cumbersome jacket, enabled him to hit the movements and nuances of the program with greater precision. And the judges seemed to agree: Mills and Locksley scored over 70 points for their short dance. The lofty score held up through the lower ranked teams and they were only unseated from first place when it was Marvella and Gardiner’s turn and even then, only two points separated them. In fact, when she looked at the detailed marks breakdown after the session, Regina was shocked to see that while Alice and Jefferson’s program components score was higher, Mills and Locksley had beaten the other team on the technical half of the score.

“If we’re catching up to them on tech, it’s only a matter of time before we draw even with them overall,” she said, unable to hide the thrill of victory in her voice. “And it’s all down to you,” she added. “You nailed it in the step sequence.”

Robin lowered his head modestly but he felt the same surge of pride that she did. All their hard work was paying off. “Let’s go back in and watch the last group,” he said. “I want to see the others.”

Swan and Jones were just taking their starting positions when Mills and Locksley sat down. After being forced to scrap their Hamilton program, they’d opted for a much safer choice: “Bang Bang (He Shot Me Down)” for the Blues portion of the dance and “Chambermaid Swing” for the Swing section. As always, Regina was more drawn to Emma as a performer: Emma emoted beautifully through the first half, the slower tempo of the music creating the perfect showcase for her long, elegant limbs and haunted facial expressions. Killian was a solid support for her, but Emma was clearly the star of the program. But then the tempo changed and Killian missed a step: he raced after his partner, who was already a full step ahead of them and in his haste, he fumbled grabbing the blade of his skate for the first set of twizzles and cut his hand. He managed to force himself through the rest of the program but the grimace on his face said it all. 

“I hope that cut wasn’t too deep,” Robin fretted. As if I need another reason to be frightened of the twizzles, he added to himself. He’d cut his own hand on that very element years ago. “Poor chap. That means a level of difficulty drop too for not catching the blade in time.”

Regina was impressed despite her own worry for Emma’s partner. “Look at you. You’ve become quite the technical analyst.”

Robin ducked his head and leaned into her shoulder. “I learned from the best.”

Swan and Jones’s score was lower than their usual – not devastatingly so, but low enough for both Aurelius and Jameson and Darling and Pan to sneak in ahead of them. The audience was in a state of shock at seeing last year’s third-ranked team suddenly in fifth place. Aurelius and Jameson were shocked too when they sat down for the press conference. Regina whispered her congratulations to Kathryn, who was sitting next to her, but Kathryn was still too overcome to manage more than a smile of thanks.

Pan was insufferable after finishing forth. “We’ll be coming for the top three next!” he crowed to the other teams as they were leaving the press room. Wendy cringed beside him but said nothing. “Better watch your backs,” he added, his gaze settling on Frederick Jameson. 

“Better watch your mouth,” Robin muttered under his breath. 

Pan’s withering gaze turned in Mills and Locksley’s direction. “Got something to say there, Locksley?” he sneered. “Whatever it is, a big man like you should have the nerve to say it to my face.”

Robin took a deep breath and rearranged his face into something resembling a smile. But it wasn’t his usual carefree smile: this time he took a cue from Regina and added a dosage of venom on top for good measure. “Not at all, Peter. My parents always taught me that if you can’t say something nice…” he left the sentence dangling and went on his merry way.

Once they were around the corner and out of earshot Regina swatted Robin on the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that!” She looked up at him with newfound respect. It was amazing that he could still surprise her after all this time and yet every time he did, she remembered why she loved him in the first place and it made her love him even more. “I’d be careful if I were you, or they’ll be calling you the Ice King to my Ice Queen.”

“King Consort,” Robin corrected. “I know who’s in charge.”

****

It snowed on the morning of the free dance.

Robin’s luggage finally arrived ten minutes before they were due to board the bus to the arena. Robin was so relieved he laughed himself to the point of hysterics. All that worry about losing his costumes and his sketchbook for nothing. The second he got to the men’s dressing room, even before getting changed, he took out his sketch book and started to draw.

At first he wasn’t drawing anything in particular: just a few lines and dashes until the pencil felt comfortable in his hand again. But soon the lines and dashes turned into the familiar contour of a cheekbone and the slope of a nose and within minutes he had a rough sketch of Regina’s lovely face staring back at him. 

“Damn,” Killian remarked, sneaking a peak over Robin’s shoulder. “That’s good, mate.”

Like most artists, Robin was riddled with conflict over his talent. He thought his own work was either brilliant or terrible. It was never merely good enough. It always fell to one extreme or the other. “It’s easier to draw when you have the right inspiration,” he admitted.

Killian looked down at his bandaged hand and wiggled his fingers gingerly. “Too bad you can’t lend me some.”

Robin gave the other skater a sympathetic punch on the shoulder. “How bad was it?”

“Not deep enough for stitches,” Killian reported, “but it still hurts like a bitch.”

Robin nodded solemnly. “I did myself the same injury back when I was competing for Team GB.”

“Your free dance is great though,” Frederick piped up from nearby. “You can still move up,” he added in a lower voice, glaring at Peter’s turned back as he spoke.  
Robin turned over a page in his sketchbook and scribbled a message: Wait til he’s gone. The other boys nodded and returned to their tasks. Robin stashed the sketchbook back in his suitcase and changed into his free dance costume. Peter left before anyone else did and the tension in the room left with him. “I’ll be damned if I lose my spot at Worlds to that little git,” Killian muttered. “But if I can’t do my holds properly because of my hand, it’s gonna come down to you,” he added to Frederick. 

“We’ll do our best to fend him off,” Frederick promised. 

The bargain was struck. The men sauntered off as a united front, only splintering off when they found their partners in the holding area. The random draw was still in effect and it had Marvella and Gardiner skating first in the final group. Jefferson had his best look of indifference on his face to portray the character of Mr. Darcy while Alice’s natural effervescence made her the perfect Lizzie for their Pride and Prejudice soundtrack program. Regina had to admit that her rivals’ free dance played to their strengths. 

“Jefferson always was a bit of a Darcy, even when we were skating together,” she admitted in a low voice to Robin. “Colin Firth and Mathew Macfadyen notwithstanding, I never really got the attraction.”  
“I’m shocked, milady. I thought all the girls fancied Mr. Darcy,” Robin quipped. 

Regina shrugged. “I always preferred Mr. Tilney from Northanger Abbey myself.” She gave him an appraising look. “You kind of remind me of him sometimes. Must be all the flirting and teasing.”  
Robin’s heart swelled with pride. “That is a compliment indeed, my lovely.”

Marvella and Gardiner were a tough act to follow but Aurelius and Jameson made a case for themselves with their intricate routine to “Danse Macabre”. They posted a very high score – much higher than anything they’d earned on the Grand Prix. Regina felt the familiar tingle of unwanted nerves when she and Robin finally took to the ice but she shook them off and reminded herself that it was just Nationals inflation. Everyone was going to get higher scores than usual. It was for this reason that scores from Nationals were never counted in any skater’s official record.

Regina fell into character with ease: the second the music started she was no longer Regina Mills but Yvaine the star: a celestial creature of grace and beauty fallen from the heavens and into the path of a young man who turned out to be more than he appeared. Regina loved the story of Tristan and Yvaine after watching the movie so many times. It had every story aspect she loved: a bit of whimsy, an unexpected romance, swordfights, a great soundtrack and a happy ending. Sure it was cheesy – fantasy movies often were – but she loved it anyway because she got to tell the story with Robin. 

Their mirror twizzles earned them an unexpected burst of applause from the audience that set the tone for the program. From there the rest of the program went by the book: lift, step sequence, lift, spin, lift, step sequence and lift. Every lift felt higher than the last and every sweep of their skate blades went deeper into the ice. The final step sequence, set to the grandest part of the music earned even more applause and the final lift had the audience lifting themselves up out of their seats to give Mills and Locksley a standing ovation. The skaters soaked in their praise, bowing and waving to the audience before they skated off to the K n C to get their marks. Regina was dazed again so Robin propped her up with an arm behind her back. She always gives so much of herself on the ice, he thought. It’s the least I can do. Their score put them solidly in second place behind Marvella and Gardiner – only two points behind.

Seeing the score finally brought Regina back to herself. “Did we beat them on the tech mark again?” She squinted at the monitor. “Oh my God, we did!”

“What did I tell you?” Ursula crowed once they were in the hallway and out of range of the cameras. “Bring the tech up to par and the PCS will follow.”

“The others won’t catch up to that,” John added. He wasn’t one to gloat but John knew when the job was done. “Just relax and watch the others. You two have earned it.”

Swan and Jones were up next. Their pale faces looked nervous on the monitor but once the music started the skaters came to life. “Swanheart” was one of those pieces of music that started out softy with light instruments and operatic vocals, gradually adding drums, guitar and grander orchestration as it built into a symphonic rock spectacle. The softness at the start of the music helped highlight the team’s musicality, allowing the tension to build into a show-stopping finale. “This is a great program for them,” Regina admitted. “If they aren’t on the World team after a performance like that then there’s something very wrong with the world. 

“They’ve more than earned their place,” Robin agreed.

“Unlike some people,” Regina added as Darling and Pan skated out to start their program. “Though I have to say, they handicapped these kids by giving them The Four Seasons. Maybe in a few more years they’ll have the gravitas to pull it off but right now…”

“It’s like you said before – the music is too big for them,” Robin finished, recalling her earlier remark. And it was. Darling and Pan had the double disadvantage of being both young and diminutive so the big music swallowed them whole. “Maybe they could have benefitted from staying at the junior level for another year. They’re still both so young. Maybe they went senior too early.”

“They should have waited until after 2018,” Regina agreed. “To take advantage of the diminished field after some of the top teams retire.”

Regina and Robin didn’t bother to wait for the marks to come up – they had to change back into their Team USA gear before the press conference – but Regina refreshed the results page on her phone and her suspicions were confirmed. Darling and Pan’s free dance score was only good enough for fifth place overall.

At Nationals the top four teams got the honour of attending the victory ceremony. Regina considered it a dubious honour. America was one of the few countries that still gave out pewter medals to the fourth place finishers. Not that it did them any good when only the top three would be going to Four Continents and Worlds. But Aurelius and Jameson were pleased with themselves for coming fourth. Even with Kathryn’s injury and their long absence they hadn’t lost any ground. 

The big story of the day was Swan and Jones fighting their way back to third place after their mishap in the short dance. Sidney Glass asked question after question while his assistant scribbled notes on a pad. It took Regina every ounce of patience she possessed not to snap at him but she kept it PC and professional, determined not to let the despised reporter get anything he could use against her. No doubt he’d find something anyway. Or he’d make something up. If only there was a way to get him banned from the press room… but that was out of her hands. The US Federation would have to revoke his media credentials before that could happen and they wouldn’t do that unless someone could prove unprofessionalism. Regina smiled through the press conference but bolted for the door the second it was over. The dressing room was mercifully empty so she grabbed her belongings as quickly as possible and retreated to the hallway to wait for Robin.

The other girls came and went. Regina said goodbye to each in turn as they wheeled their suitcases away. But still Robin did not appear. She sent him a text but got no response. Growing frustrated, she made the short trek down the hallway to the men’s dressing room and pounded on the door. “Robin? Are you in there?” Her voice echoed down the empty hall and an involuntary shiver rattled her spine. Where could he be?  
The door was wrenched open but it was Jefferson who appeared, looking agitated. The sight of him still made Regina’s stomach plummet even after their somewhat friendly dinner a few nights ago. “Have you seen Robin?” She had to force herself to look him in the eye. Her neck seemed to want to tilt her head back in the direction of the floor. 

“He’s still in there,” Jefferson said. “Erm… maybe you should come in too.”

He stepped back. Why the hell would I want to go into the stinky boys’ locker room? Regina wondered. Robin would never try to come into the ladies’ room. Except at Nationals last year when Kathryn was hurt…  
“Something’s wrong,” Regina realized. She pushed past Jefferson and entered the room, finding Robin crouched on the floor with the contents of his suitcase in piles around him. “What are you doing?” she exclaimed when she came upon his state of disarray. “Did they steal something from your luggage while it was lost?”

“Not while it was lost.” Robin’s voice was harsh. Almost… hard. He’d never sounded like this before. Not ever. “Something was taken while it was here in the locker room.”

But who would have done such a thing? “What’s missing?” Regina prompted him.

Robin sat back, the colour fully draining from his face. “My sketchbook. My sketchbook is gone.”


	12. Artistic License

Regina had never seen Robin like this. 

In all the times they’d ever had a bad training session or a mistake at a competition, Robin had never sunk into true despair. He brooded and he ruminated, but he always came around in the end. But this time was different. Regina could already see him folding into himself as if the very essence of what made Robin Robin had fallen away. The ever-present sparkle in his eyes had gone out, replaced by something hard and flinty. Regina was at a loss. For the first time in their partnership, she didn’t know how to help him. This wasn’t something that could be solved with a few heartfelt kisses or a heart-to-heart chat. This was beyond her. His sketchbook was as much a part of him as his skates were and now it was gone. All those beautiful drawings, every stroke of pencil and heart, vanished. 

Her inability to help gave way to anger: a harsh, wild thing she hadn’t felt since her injury. They reported the loss to the arena box office but there wasn’t anything else to be done. No one had turned in a missing sketchbook. A security officer half-heartedly suggested a crazed fan might have sneaked into the dressing room and stolen it but Robin shot that theory down. “Hardly anyone knows I draw,” he reasoned. “I’ve never posted my art on Twitter or Tumblr or wherever. The only people who know about it are the other lads who saw me with the book. And my partner.”

Regina put a hand on his shoulder, though whether it was to comfort him or to steady herself she couldn’t be certain. “You have to something,” she hissed at the security guard, making him flinch. “This was theft. And if it wasn’t one of the other skaters…” she cast around for another theory and had a flash of inspiration. “What about the members of the press? They know where the dressing rooms are and when they would be empty. If someone was looking for a scoop…”

“They left the pencil case at least,” Robin spoke up again. Leave it to Robin to find the one silver lining in the whole endeavour. “What? Art supplies are expensive.”

“Right!” Regina exclaimed, fury burning in her eyes. “So whoever did this wasn’t looking to get some free 2B pencils.”

The security officer promised to look into the theft but Regina doubted his competence as they were being shooed out of his office. Robin had already given up: Regina could see it in his eyes. “I’ll find that book if it’s the last thing I do,” she swore as they made their way back to the lobby. “I will shake down every guy we just competed against and rattle the entire press corps if I have to. I’ll bet it was Sidney, he always had it out for you…”

“Regina.” The ice in his voice silenced her. “Please. Don’t.”

His eyes were so pained and his voice so emotionless it stopped her cold. Regina found herself backing away, unable to reconcile the sweet man she’d grown so accustomed to loving with this new, suddenly colder one. This wasn’t the Robin she knew. She wasn’t an artist like him. She could never begin to understand the depth of the loss.

But she had to try. This was Robin: her partner, her boyfriend, her everything. If she couldn’t help him through this, if this wasn’t something she could make better, then what was the point? “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do…”

Robin gave up. He half leaned, half fell against her, permitting himself to be pulled into a tight embrace. His shoulders shook as she touched him and she realised he was crying too. “I put so much of us into that book,” he murmured against her shoulder. “Every single drawing I made was for us. It was supposed to be our story, our journey…”

“And no one can take that from us,” she reminded him, her voice still hard. “Our story isn’t going to end because someone stole your book.” She lifted his face up in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “I won’t let it.”

He kissed her then, all rawness and intensity. Her gasp of shock died against his lips as his mouth pressed insistently, desperately against hers. Regina parted her lips, letting him taste, letting him find himself again in the familiar contours of her mouth and the press of her body against his. He’d never kissed her like this, not with this extra layer of roughness. He pulled away guiltily a minute later, fearing he was taking too much. But she didn’t seem upset. If anything, she was regarding him with new eyes. Oh. Maybe she didn’t mind a bit of roughness every now and then. “Perhaps it’s time to start a new chapter,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” she said softly, never taking her eyes off him. “I’m staying with you tonight, Jefferson be damned. In fact… he’ll be the first person I search for the book.”

Robin managed a grim smile. “There’s my fiery queen. How fortunate am I to know you’ll always fight for me.”

She was feeling needy herself so she quickly indulged in one more heated kiss. “You’d do the same for me.”

Indeed I would, he thought to himself. She held tightly onto his arm on the bus back to the hotel and when they went up to his room, she threw the door open and marched in as if she owned the place. It was time to push her own feelings toward Jefferson to the backburner and get to the bottom of the missing book. “You may be many things Jefferson Gardiner – a traitor for one – but are you a thief too?” Regina kicked Jefferson’s suitcase with her sneakered foot, staring him down with her best look of fury. “You know what I’m looking for. So if you took it, why not save us both the hassle and hand it over.”

“I swear it wasn’t me,” Jefferson insisted, his hands raised in surrender. “I turned that locker room inside out and I didn’t see Robin’s sketchbook anywhere…”

“It’s true,” Robin pointed out. “Jefferson did help me look for it.”

“To cover his own tracks maybe.” Regina tossed her hair narrowed her eyes at her ex-partner. “If you’re so keen to prove your innocence, let me search your luggage.” She stood firm, arms crossed, watching Jefferson squirm.

“If you want to riffle through my dirty socks, be my guest.” Jefferson huffed and sat down on his hotel bed. “But I didn’t take it.”

Regina, still riding her wave of righteous anger, searched every nook and cranny of Jefferson’s suitcase and was forced to admit defeat. She’d let her own anger at Jefferson get the better of her, yet again. But she’d be damned if she let it show. “That’s one down. Who else was in the change room with you guys?” She looked up at the boys, drawing herself back up to her full height for the extra authority. 

“Frederick was there,” Jefferson said. “You wrote a note in the book and showed it to him, remember?” he added to Robin. “Did he give the book back afterward?”

“Yes he did. Killian saw me with it too, though. He even complimented me on it,” Robin remembered. “And Peter was there but he left before the rest of us did.” 

“And Killian didn’t come back after the FD,” Jefferson recalled. “He went back to the medic to get his hand looked at again.”

“Truth be told I don’t think Frederick could have done it,” Robin continued. “He doesn’t have a vindictive bone in his body. And his partner’s a tough lass. She’d never let him get away with it.”

“So that leaves the press,” Jefferson concluded. “Any of them could have snuck in while we were doing the medal ceremony.”

“Maybe it was Sidney,” Robin muttered. “But he’d be long gone by now. The press don’t stick around after the free programs are over.”

“He’ll be at Four Continents though,” Regina pointed out. As much as she was loath to be in the same room as that man, if it meant getting Robin’s sketchbook back, she’d have to be brave. Even though Sidney made her skin crawl, she’d have him crawling by the time she was through with him. “He’ll regret he ever set foot in that locker room once I’m through with him.”

“Perhaps I should talk to him,” Robin suggested, but Regina silenced him with a look. “Or we could do it together,” he amended. “Moral support and all that.”

Regina sighed and sat down on the bed. With her anger tapering off, she felt drained. There was nothing they could do for now but at least they had the beginnings of a plan. “I’m exhausted,” murmured, reclining back against the padded headboard. “I feel like I could sleep for a year.”

Jefferson cleared his throat pointedly. “Er… you’re staying, then?”

Regina shrugged. “My partner needs me. And I’d never turn down a chance to make you uncomfortable.” She smirked as realization dawned on him.

Jefferson perched gingerly on the desk chair, as far away from her as he could get. “Fair enough. I deserved that.”

Robin eyed the two of them with trepidation. If they were going to have it out at long last, perhaps it would be best if he slipped into the hallway for a moment. But the explosion never came. Regina had already vented her anger. All that was left now was the same old resentment, made easier by the passing of time. “I wanted to hate you for what you did to me,” Regina said. “But you were only doing it because I pretty much ordered you to find a new partner.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me for it.” Jefferson slouched in his chair, contrite and uncomfortable.

“I didn’t think it would hurt so much to see you skating with someone else, but… as awful as it was, at least it meant I could still feel something, even if it was something painful,” Regina went on. “At least it meant I wasn’t as broken as my ankle was.”

She was so strong, Robin marvelled. So resilient. And after all this time she was finally ready to forgive Jefferson. He was so proud: proud of her and proud to be by her side. And wherever his sketchbook was, he knew they’d find a way to get it back – together.

“I should have waited,” Jefferson said. “I should have waited another month, another week even. I should have known you’d be too stubborn not to heal.”

Regina shook her head. “Come on Jefferson, be serious. Everyone thought I was a lost cause, me most of all. But one day I was in the physiotherapy room and… I just didn’t need the crutches anymore. My legs were weak, but I could stand. I could even walk a few steps. It took weeks, but I got better and better each day. But it took time. Time we would have lost if you’d waited around for me. We would have had to start from scratch if I’d come back to you. It was never easy for us. We always had to work at it, to find the right programs and the right style. It’s not supposed to be that hard.”

“We did always butt heads,” Jefferson agreed. 

“We would have driven each other crazy if we’d stayed together,” Regina realized. “I was – am – too stubborn and you’re too melodramatic. It would have never worked in the long term.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jefferson said at last. “But I still bear the guilt of it every single day.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “There’s that melodrama, right on cue. Some things never change.” But she laughed a little and the tension lifted ever so slightly.

“Well then,” Robin spoke up and the last remnants of tension left the room. “Perhaps it’s time for some room service.”

****

The exhibition gala was less fun than it usually was. Even with the newly clear air between Regina and Jefferson, the loss of Robin’s sketchbook still weighed over the proceedings. Mills and Locksley’s performance of “As Long as You’re Mine” was more subdued than usual. Darling and Pan got into a huge argument right before they were due to skate. Swan and Jones skipped the gala because Killian’s hand was still bothering him. Overall the event was lacklustre but at least it meant Nationals were over and done with for another year.

Robin took Regina out for her birthday a week later. He didn’t want the loss of his sketchbook to stop him from living his life, though it still weighed heavily on him. But a night off was just what the doctor ordered: one final night of fun before training for the Four Continents Championship ramped up. Due to the closeness of the scores at Nationals, Aurelius and Jameson were given the honour of going to Four Continents while Swan and Jones would be going to Worlds instead. It was unorthodox but fair: with four excellent teams it made sense to spread the assignments around. Darling and Pan came up short in the exchange but as the fifth-ranked national team, it was to be expected. They’d done well for their first year at senior overall, much to the chagrin of the older and more experienced teams. 

Robin channelled his anger over the loss of his sketchbook into training harder than ever. At the rink he was a man possessed: there were days when Regina could barely keep up with him and she wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Your partner’s been on fire lately,” Guinevere remarked to Regina after a particularly rigorous workout session. “What’s your secret?”

Regina shrugged it off. “Turns out all you have to do is threaten a man’s artistic integrity and he turns into a competitive machine.”

“Damn.” Guinevere expressed her approval with an appreciative whistle. “Maybe I’ll try that on Lance.”

It must have worked because Guinevere and Lancelot skated their way to a European title a week later. Regina made a point of shooing Tink out of the house one evening to help Robin blow off some steam. His willingness to pleasure her hadn’t abated, but this time she wanted to help him along. It was her first time giving him a blow job and while it wasn’t her favourite activity to be on the giving end of, it broke up the ever-building tension quite nicely. And it was worth it to watch his face go slack from ecstasy when she helped him finish.

“You mouth is exquisite,” he managed to gasp out after she’d crawled back into bed next to him. 

She smirked. “Yours is better.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Do you want it to be?”

He grinned and ducked under the covers.

They’d been carrying on like this for months now: fooling around, being playful, enjoying and getting to know each other’s bodies. Regina’s previous nervousness at being overwhelmed by all the attention was slowly giving away to her more passionate impulses. It helped that Robin was always so attentive to her needs. Within minutes he had her quaking and moaning, coasting up and over the edge to a blissful finish.  
She lay sprawled out afterward, her body still pulsing and her heart still hammering in her chest. “That was incredible.”

Robin pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder. “You’re the incredible one.”

She left out a huff of air. An idea had been rolling around in her head for the last few weeks and now seemed like the time to voice it. “I think we should have sex. When we get back from our next competition, I mean.” She looked up at him to gauge his reaction. He hadn’t pushed her on the issue – ever the gentleman – but she knew he wanted her. She could tell by the way he touched her, the way he devoured her with his eyes every minute of every day. 

“Are you sure you feel ready?” He traced a finger across her cheek, studying her as he so often did.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I do.”

He sighed contentedly and pulled her into his arms. “Well then, milady. You just say the word and I’ll be ready for you.”

She planted a sleepy kiss on his cheek. “I certainly hope so.”

They slept peacefully. Four Continents was still a week away and there wasn’t an ounce of energy to spare for anything else. This year’s event was in South Korea and many of the skaters considered it a practice run for next year’s Olympics in the same country. But a lot could happen in a year and a lot still needed to be done. The first priority was getting Robin’s sketchbook back from Sidney. He’d all but admitted to stealing it in his latest article. Regina filched a copy of the Ice Mirror from Doctor Whale when he ducked out to the bathroom during the flight. “He actually wrote that if this skating thing doesn’t work out you could have a real future as an artist.” She passed the magazine back to an alarmed Victor. “He all but admitted to stealing your book. Otherwise how could he have known?”

But Robin was starting to wonder. It was such a brazen admission of guilt… what if they were missing something? 

But Regina was determined and there was no talking her out of something once her mind was made up. She descended upon Sidney before the first practice session with fire in her eyes and malice in her heart, dragging Robin along in her wake. 

“Miss Mills!” Sidney exclaimed upon the sight of her, utterly oblivious to her anger. “To what do I owe the pleasure…”

“Oh shut up,” Regina barked. “You have someone of Robin’s and he wants it back.”

Sidney made a noise of disbelief: a false front that failed to disguise his shuffling feet and nervous eyes. He was so phony, Regina couldn’t believe no one else had noticed. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean…” Sidney stammered.

“My sketchbook.” Robin fixed the reporter with his best impression of Regina’s withering glare. “I’d like it back, please.”

Sidney goggled at him. “Your sketchbook?” he repeated. “I don’t have your sketchbook, you big oaf.” He shot Robin a look of utter disdain.

Regina’s hands involuntarily clenched into fists she didn’t dare use, though she dearly wished to. “What did you do with it?” she demanded, deliberately positioning herself in the space between her partner and the sleazy reporter. “Did you throw it in the trash after you got the scoop you needed for your little article?”

“I didn’t steal anything!” Sidney insisted. “A source showed it to me. I told them to put it back, but judging from the look on your boy’s face, it’s still unaccounted for. Otherwise why would you be coming after me? Are you finally ready to give me that one-on-one interview?” His eyes flashed suggestively in Regina’s direction.

This time Robin stepped between his partner and the reporter. “Who’s this source? I’d like to have a word with them.”

Sidney was affronted. “How dare you. A good reporter never burns his sources.”

“Even if your source is a lousy thief?” Regina piped up. “Stop fucking around, Sidney. Unless you want to be an accomplice to a crime. I’m no lawyer but that’s the sort of thing that could lose you your media accreditation. And we all know what a loss that would be for the skating fan community.”

“Indeed,” Robin chimed in, catching on to her meaning. “Where would they be without your lofty journalistic integrity?”

Sidney sighed. “Fine. My assistant was the one who was contacted by the source. I’ll call him and get your book back.”

Robin smiled, his best attempt at one of Regina’s game face smiles. “Wonderful. We’re all reasonable people. I knew we could work something out.”

“Wonderful!” Sidney echoed, his old chirpy bravado returning. “I’ll just be going then…”

“Not so fast.” Regina moved into his path again, hands on her hips. “You’ve been a thorn in our side for months now. So unless you want us to report you for this little stunt, you have to promise us something.”  
Sidney blanched. “And what would that be?”

Regina swooped in for the kill. “You have to promise not to harass either of us or any other skater for the sake of an article ever again.”

Sidney was distraught. “But how else am I supposed to do my job?” he whined.

“You can start by telling the truth,” Robin said. “Reporting the facts as they happen. You’re one of the last journalists to cover skating exclusively. People rely on you, whether we like it or not. You owe it to the sport and to your readers to do a better job.”

Sidney scoffed at them. “You kids and your integrity. You make me sick. The people don’t want happy little stories about how you and your competitors are all best friends forever,” he mocked. “My readers want drama and intrigue. They want the dirt.”

“Maybe you’d be better off as a fiction writer,” Regina mumbled with a roll of her eyes. 

It was a throwaway comment, but Sidney latched onto it like a dog with a bone. “Miss Mills! I always knew you were the smart one on the team.” He grinned, all teeth and venom. “I’ll be dedicating my first novel to you, my dear.”

He walked away and it took all the strength Regina had not to hurl herself after him and pummel him with her still-clenched fists. “If that shitbag ends up writing a thinly-veiled novel about me, I’ll kill him with my own bare hands,” she growled as Robin held her back. “Then I’ll buy up every copy I can get my hands on and throw them in the garbage where they belong. I don’t care if I have to go bankrupt to do it.”

Robin took her hands in his and gently pried her fingers apart. “Perhaps you could settle for suing the life out of him instead,” he suggested. “Much more civilized than murder.”

Regina permitted him to kiss her knuckles as she tried to calm her racing heart. “You’d visit me in jail though, wouldn’t you?” she joked.

Robin was affronted. “Not likely.”

Regina jerked away. “What?” 

“Well, I couldn’t,” he said reasonably. “Not if I went to jail as well for aiding and abetting you in your life of crime,” he explained.

Relief flooded her senses. “Maybe they’d let us share a cell. Or we could go on the run like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“A pair of outlaws. It would be terribly romantic, except for the part where we both die at the end,” Robin added, making her smile again. 

“Ugh.” Regina shuddered. “And I thought I was the morbid one.” She gave his hand a little tug back in the direction of the ice. “Come on, Clyde. We still have to do our run-through.”“Whatever you say, Bonnie.”

****

It was fun to compete against Aurelius and Jameson. Regina and Kathryn were assigned as roommates again, so they did the usual pre-competition dinner together with their partners. “It’s a shame we don’t get to hang out more often,” Kathryn lamented later on when the girls were getting ready to turn in for the night. “I heard you gave Sidney Glass the scare of his life. I wish I’d been there to see it.”

“He needed to be put in his place,” Regina said as she fluffed her pillows and hopped into bed. “I just wish he’d been more forthcoming about who stole Robin’s sketchbook. I thought he’d done the deed himself, but he was adamant about protecting his source.”

“You don’t think he was lying to save his own ass?” Kathryn inquired. Regina shook her head. “Hmm. Well, at least that’s him out of our hair for a while. I’m sorry about the sketchbook though. Robin must have been devastated.”

“He moped for weeks,” Regina admitted. “Not that I blame him.”

Kathryn shook her head, disgusted by the entire affair. “What a shitty thing to do to a person. Whoever did it…”

“They’ll get what’s coming to them,” Regina muttered darkly. Whether by my own hand or by the hand of karma, this thief will get theirs. 

She channelled her conflicting emotions into a short program that earned Mills and Locksley a new personal best of 73.77 points. Marvella and Gardiner and Lucas and Booth finished ahead of them in the short but the spread of points between the top three teams was as close as it had ever been. How fitting that finally forgiving Jefferson had allowed Regina to let go of the last of her anger and draw even with him. If I’d known that I would have forgiven him ages ago, she thought after the press conference. As much has she’d felt justified in her anger, holding onto it had also held her back. Without the anger she was free to live up to her potential.

But they still had the free dance to get through. With the random draw still in effect, Mills and Locksley were scheduled to skate last in the FD. Regina paced backstage, too afraid to check the monitor. The free dances of the other couples were diverse and varied: Marvella and Gardiner’s Pride and Prejudice program was classical and elegant while Lucas and Booth’s Nightwish program was dramatic and bold. LeFay and Ambrose’s “Polovtsian Dances” was traditional while Aurelius and Jameson’s “Danse Macabre” was theatrical. And at last, Mills and Locksley’s Stardust program in turn brought an air of whimsy and magic to the event that none of the other teams could match. 

Then came the crash. The post-competitive adrenaline had all the skaters down for the count and the long plane trip home only exacerbated the problem. Regina and Robin fell asleep on the couch the minute they got home, only to be roused hours later by Tink. “You need to eat something or you’ll just feel worse,” their housemate insisted. “I ordered pizza.”

So much for my post-competition sex plans, Regina groaned inwardly as she forced herself to sit up. Her neck cracked when she rolled it. Good God, she was stiff. The only thing she’d be getting tonight was a hot bath and a full night of sleep. What do normal people do? She wondered, and not for the first time. It must be nice to have extra time for things like hobbies (was sex a hobby?) Her brain rattled around in her head as she robotically ate two slices of pizza and promptly laid her head down on the table. She didn’t want to disappoint Robin, but if she fell asleep during their first time she’d never live it down. If I end up giving him yet another thing to feel insecure about, I’ll never forgive myself.

“Time for bed, I think.” He gave her a gentle nudge to help her get up but she twitched away. “For sleep,” he clarified. “I think we should wait until we’re both more alert, don’t you?”

She smiled tiredly and let him lead her up to her room. She let him stay, still needing his company and his embrace. Morning brought fresh introspection and murmured conversations. “Is it always going to be like this?” she wondered. “Not having time to just be us?”

Robin, lying behind her, leaned forward to kiss her neck. “We’re always us. But don’t forget: the off-season is coming up. We’ll have plenty of time to just be us then.”

She could feel his lips curling into as smile as he inched his way down her neck. “Is that your polite way of saying you want to spend our off-season making up for all the sex we haven’t been having?”

“Mmm.” He nipped lightly at the soft skin beneath her jaw. “I’m up for it if you are.”

A sleepy giggle escaped her mouth. “Oh, you’re bad. I can’t wait.”

A sharp knock interrupted the moment. Regina scowled at the closed door, already throwing off the covers to tell Tink to get lost. Tink knew better than to bother her this early in the morning. “What?” she barked, wrenching the door half open.

“You didn’t hear the doorbell?” Tink frowned, looking over Regina’s shoulder to confirm that Robin was in the room. “A package just came for Robin.”

“For me?” Robin got up and took it from her. “What could this be…?”

He went to the kitchen and slit the cardboard open with a knife. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a medium-sized leather bound book and a note.

“My sketchbook!” he exclaimed, hugging it to his chest. 

Regina was floored. Sidney had kept his word. “But who sent it?” There was no return address on the box. “What does the note say?”

Robin unfolded it. “‘Dear Robin, I’m very sorry to say that I found this in my partner’s backpack. I must apologize, for I know he will not. He doesn’t even know I’m sending this to you and I fear retaliation if he finds out. I am truly sorry for the pain we’ve caused you. If there’s anything I can do to make amends, please contact me. My cell number is written at the bottom. Yours sincerely… Wendy Darling’.”

“So Pan stole the book!” Tink realised. “And if Wendy found it…”

“That means Sidney didn’t do anything. He didn’t uphold his end of the bargain.” Suddenly Regina was wide awake. “I need to call Ursula. Then she can contact Mr. Gold and then... then maybe we still have a chance of getting Sidney’s media credentials revoked!”

“I should call Wendy and thank her,” Robin mused, still staring at the letter. “And make sure she’s alright.” A frown of worry creased his brow. 

“You don’t think Peter… you don’t think he’d do something to her if he found out she turned him in?” Tink wondered. “Maybe you tell Gold about that too. He may be a creepy old wanker but he cares about his skaters.”

Regina was happy to have her coaches smooth things over with Gold while she spoke to Wendy herself. “It was very brave of you to do what you did,” she said to Wendy over the phone. “Robin was so happy when he saw the book.”

“I’m just glad I found it before someone else did,” Wendy responded in a wavering voice. “He’s going to get into trouble for this, isn’t he?”

Regina gritted her teeth. “I’m afraid so. My coach Ursula is on the phone with Mr. Gold right now.”

Wendy whimpered. “I just wanted to be brave and do the right thing. You told me I needed to stand up to my partner. I’m just sorry it took so long for me to work up the courage to do it.”

“But you did,” Regina said soothingly. “That’s what counts.” And maybe now it’s my turn to be brave too. She handed the phone back to Robin. He was already doodling away in his book again, a blissful smile on his handsome face. No more what ifs and worries, she told herself. I’m going to sleep with my boyfriend before Worlds if it’s the last thing I do.


	13. Worlds Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took twice as long as usual! I got busy over the holidays and I just had a hard time making this chapter as good as I wanted it to be. Hopefully I'll get back to my regular schedule of updating every other week! Thanks for sticking with me. Mills and Locksley are going to get to the Olympics before the actual Olympics start again even if it kills me. Thank you also for all your wonderful comments. I'm going to go back and answer the ones I didn't get to before (sorry again! I love you guys.)

Sidney Glass wrote one final scathing article on the breakup of Darling and Pan before his media credentials were taken away. But Sidney did not go quietly. Without his magazine to cower behind he took to his blog, posting a new rant every week in the lead up to Worlds. No topic was sacred: from diatribes against the judging system to mean-spirited critiques of every skater he could name, Sidney was on a roll. He’d been banned from attending any further events but in his own angry corner of the internet, he was able to say whatever he wanted.

Regina was outraged. “I know this country is built on freedom of speech and that everyone is entitled to their opinion, but this is just making things worse. I thought having his credentials taken away would make him stop, but instead we unleashed a monster.”

“He’s just shouting at clouds,” Robin said soothingly. “Eventually people will forget about him and we can all move on.”

“Eventually can’t come soon enough,” she said through gritted teeth.

The anger threw Regina off balance. After a few bad training sessions, Ursula pulled her aside for a little chat. “You’re way too keyed up, honey,” Ursula chided her. “You need to relax.”

“How can I relax while everyone is breathing down my neck?” Regina hissed. “Everyone wants a piece of me these days.”

Ursula sighed. “Go home early today and call the sports psychologist.”

Regina huffed. “Fine.”

Robin stayed with her while she spilled her guts to the psychologist. “I just feel like I’m being pulled around by all these people. My coaches are pushing me harder than ever, the people I compete against are getting better and better and I just… it’s all out of my control. I feel like all these other people are reaching into my life and writing their own stories on top of me.”

“That’s because you’re giving them too much power,” the sports psychologist reminded her. “Never forget: only you can write your own life, Regina. Others can throw plot twists your way, but you are the heroine of your own story.”

Easy for her to say, Regina thought after she ended the call. But at least there was one thing she had some control over. Robin had been watching her with trepidation the entire time she’d been on the phone and when he spoke he was genuinely hurt. “Regina,” he said slowly, hesitantly. “Do you feel that I’m trying to control you too?”

He was so taken aback she had to rush to deny it. “No! No, of course not. You’ve never made me feel that way.” She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself up against his familiar warmth to steady herself. That was all it took. A sense of calm washed over her and travelled to him: she could feel his tense muscles relax under the weight of her touch and when he leaned into her, she knew. “You’re probably the one person who’s never tried to control me,” she told him. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Robin’s hands found their way to her waist, drawing her in closer as he spoke. “I love you,” he said simply. “I have a vested interest in making sure you’re completely comfortable with me.”

She leaned far enough away to look into his eyes, not wanting to break contact just yet. “Because you want me?” she flirted.

Robin cleared this throat. “That and I believe in treating a lady with respect.”

“And is that respect what’s keeping you from taking me upstairs right now?”

Robin sighed and let his forehead rest against hers. “I think you know the answer to that.”

“Robin?”

“Hmm?”

She kissed him, letting her longing finally get the better of her. “Take me upstairs.”

****

It was over too fast.

Months of teasing and fooling around had built the tension up to a height so lofty it didn’t take much to push them both up and over the edge. They started out much as they often did, trading hungry kisses and suggestive turns of phrase as clothes were discarded in a (neatly folded) pile on the floor. Robin laughed then, muttering something about her obsession with tidiness and earned a smack on the arm for his trouble. He pouted and she kissed it better. “I can’t help it,” she confessed. “You know what I’m like.”

“I’d still like to know more,” he whispered as he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses across her collarbones, inching closer and closer to her cleavage. “Will you let me?” He looked up hopefully as he chin came to rest at the top of her breasts.

She grinned and undid the clasp of her bra, leaning back to drop it onto the pile. Robin made a little whimpering sound and then his hands were on her again, cupping and squeezing her breasts, making her whimper in return. The pads of his fingers were callused on his left hand from playing the guitar and the combination of soft and rough made the sensation even more pleasurable for her. “They’re perfect,” he whispered, running his hands reverently over the soft swells. 

“I knew you’d say so.” Regina reached for his shirt, tugging it up to reveal the muscles beneath. “My turn,” she said, trailing her hands over the plane of his chest and stomach. Robin growled and reached for the button of her jeans. Regina lost all sense of time as the rest of their clothes hit the floor and her bare back hit the mattress. Robin moved over her, making a thorough exploration of her body with his hands, tracing every curve and valley. He would pause every now and then to gauge her reaction, only to find her biting her lips and arching her spine. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, pushing his hands down toward her hips. “I need you.”

He traced his fingers down her hipbones, watching as she arched upward again, straining toward his touch. His mouth followed, making her quake and moan with teasing kisses and licks down her chest and across her stomach before traveling below her waist. He felt her thigh tremble as he slipped a hand between her legs. “Hold on, love – there’s something I left in my pocket.” He rolled over and retrieved a wrapped condom from his jeans. “Can’t be too careful.”

With that taken care of, Regina pulled him into another heated kiss, swiping her tongue between his parted lips. “How do you want me?” she breathed, her mouth lingering against his. “On top or on my back?”

“I want you every which way,” he admitted, letting his palms coast down her thighs as he spoke. “But perhaps… perhaps on your back for starters.”

“Fair enough.” At this point Regina was so desperate, she simply pulled him back down on top of her and said, “you’re on.”

Robin was surprised. “I thought you liked being in control.”

Regina gripped his shoulder hard enough for her nails to bite into his skin. “I can still be in control from down here. And it gives you something to look forward to.” Enough talking, she thought, and she pointedly eased her legs apart. Catching her meaning, Robin moved between her parted thighs, testing her with a finger to make sure she was ready before their bodies finally came together and melted into one. She let out a sigh as he filled her and her hips relaxed. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until now. “You feel good,” she said, realizing that she was relieved by this revelation. The last boy she’d slept with hadn’t been the right match physically. If Robin hadn’t been after all this time… she shook the stray thought away and looked up to see that he seemed relieved too. He was staring at her in wonder, completely lost in the feel of her, his eyes half shut. “Are you going to…?”

“Oh right.” He started to move, letting out a groan as he slid further into her. “You feel good too,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her shoulder again. “You feel amazing,” he added, settling a hand on her thigh for leverage. “I can’t believe it took us so long to do this.”

“Mm,” she sighed as he pulled back and pushed in deeper. “I’ll never make you wait that long again,” she promised. “Now… can’t we get on with it? I’m dying here.”

“As you wish, milady.”

It took minute to find the right pace: Robin wanted to go slow, to draw it out, but Regina was overeager. She writhed and rocked beneath him, spurring him to go faster with the pumping of her hips and her moans of encouragement. He obliged, pushing her further, never taking his eyes off her beautiful face as her lips parted and her cries of pleasure echoed in his ears. She arched up into him, hands gripping his back to hold him against her as she came. And then… then it was over. Regina reached her peak in only minutes, crying out his name and falling back into herself before she even realized it was over. Every nerve in her body buzzed and pulsed with approval, sending tingling aftershocks through every inch of her being. Robin was saying something but the blood was rushing too loudly in her ears for her to register it. She felt good. She felt powerful. She felt…

“Blast it,” he was saying, trembling fingers brushing the hair out of her eyes as he spoke. “I wanted to make it last…”

“Hmm?” Her mind was too hazy to understand. Why was he talking? He was supposed to be cuddling. She shimmied closer until they were skin-to-skin again, draping her thigh possessively over his.

“Oh,” he whispered. “Are you…?”

“I’m fine,” she murmured. “I’m great. You’re great. I’m… ohh…” His hand had settled in the crook of her hip – the same spot it had gripped only moments ago when he was still inside her. “Are you okay?” 

He made a noise – something between a sigh and a bemused chuckle. “Oh, Regina. I’m grand.”

It took a few minutes for her head to clear, but the minutes didn’t feel like minutes. She was still drifting through a haze of sex and swimming in released emotions. Surfacing was an unpleasant jolt to the senses. Robin wasn’t looking at her. He was staring up at the ceiling. “What’s wrong?” She sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover herself with. “Did I do something…?”

Oh no, love, Robin thought. This was all on me. “Not at all.” He shook his head. “You were incredible.” He gestured to her body, still unable to believe his good fortune or his failure. I had all of this within my grasp this was the best he could do? He wanted to weep. He wanted to go back in time and start again, but this time he would savour her. He’d take her slowly, draw it out as long as possible. 

She frowned at him. “Then why are you…?”

He groaned and sat up with her. “Because… because I came like a teenage boy who just saw a girl naked for the first time.” I’m a disgrace. After all this time, all this waiting, and this is the best I could give her.

She let out a laugh. A look of pain crossed his face but she couldn’t stop. “Oh Robin. Did you somehow miss the part where you managed to get me off first before you went to pieces?”

No, he hadn’t missed it. Seeing her beneath him, lips parted, panting for more, crying out for more, moving in pace with him… seeing her undone had undone him. “I just… I wanted to give you more.” He collapsed in a dejected pile and covered his face with his hands. “I wanted…”

He’s doing it again. Beating himself up because things didn’t go exactly as he planned. Regina had had enough. “Robin.” She rolled over on top of him, forcing him to look at her. “You gave me plenty. That’s the fastest you’ve ever made me finish. 

“Don’t remind me.”

Regina sighed at treated him to another open-mouthed, tongue-filled kiss. “It was amazing. I was worried it would be awkward, but you… you were wonderful.” An idea sparked in her brain. “Maybe speed has its advantages,” she said, batting the idea around in her still sex-crazed mind. 

Robin was dubious. “If you call disappointing your lady an advantage.”

“But you didn’t disappoint me.” He still looked doubtful so she kept talking. “We’ve been dancing around this for months. We were both so keyed up, it’s no wonder we both finished so quickly. I wasn’t expecting it to be perfect the first time. I’m not a girl in a romance novel. I may not have that much experience, but I’m not a prude. I know things.”

She had a point. There had been times when his desire for her had been too much to bear and he’d taken it upon himself to release that desire on his own. He’d finished with ridiculous ease those times as well. “We just… need to find our pace,” he said, finally realizing that it wasn’t his fault. “Oh bullocks. What must you think of me.”

She sighed. “I think you were just as eager as I was.”

“Most likely.” He reached up to cup a hand to her cheek. “You’re not upset?”

She shook her head. “Not remotely.”

“Hmm.” Something else she’d said was bothering him. “What you said before about speed…”

“Oh right. That.” She propped herself up against his chest. “We’re both busy people. We have a lot of other commitments which means we don’t always have time to commit to just being us. So if we can do more with what little time we have…” she trailed off suggestively.

“Ah!” He caught her meaning at last. “Well. We do have a bit more time before our housemate gets home,” he pointed out.

“Hmm. Whatever should we do?”

Robin’s confident smile returned and he tugged away the sheet she’d hidden behind. “I can think of one or two things,” he said, running a suggestive hand up her side. “And I seem to recall something about you being on top.” He leaned up to kiss her again, settling his hands back on her hips. “You see, I’m quite determined to get our first time right. And if we don’t leave this room, then technically this still counts as the first time.”

He’s got a point there, she thought. “I’m up for round two if you are.”

She grinned victoriously and swooped in for another kiss. “Let’s get you warmed up again.”

****

Of course there were some times and places where it simply wouldn’t be polite to sneak away for some quick alone time. The skating club was out of the question. No room there stayed unoccupied for very long. There were other places that were equally inappropriate – the bathroom on an overseas flight being one of them. Not that either half of Mills and Locksley were looking to join the mile high club on the way to the World Championships. “Those bathrooms are disgusting,” Regina reported after returning from a routine trip. The person before her had left toilet paper on the floor. “I can’t imagine how anyone finds it sexy.”

But once they landed and fell back into competition mode, sex was the last thing on either of their minds. The competition was extra fierce this year: Marvella and Gardiner had won the Grand Prix Final but Lucas and Booth had come out on top at Four Continents. Meanwhile Troyes and DuLac had posted a massive score at the European Championships. The scoring potential between the top three teams was so close, fellow skaters and fans alike considered the dance event too close to call.

The pairs event was also shaping up to be a three-way race between the Americans Mills and Crane, a seasoned Canadian team and an up-and-coming Russian pair. The ladies event was a free for all, with Elsa and her rival Kira Yukimura fighting valiantly to hold off the younger Russian and American girls. Even the men’s event, a two-man race between two rivals from Japan and Spain, was hotly contested. This was the event where the lines would be drawn in the sand one last time before the Olympic season. This was where the true contenders would emerge.

Mills and Locksley’s goal was to finish fifth or better and to improve upon their scores from last season. Overall the marks had been skewing higher across the board all season, so both goals were well within reach. Practice sessions were uneventful but productive and the random draw for the short dance worked in Mills and Locksley’s favour. The ended up in the penultimate group and would not be skating before or after any of their direct rivals.

“I’m really going to miss hip hop after this season,” Robin said wistfully as they waited for their turn. “I like to think I’ve gotten rather good at it.”

“But just think: next year we have the rhumba pattern dance,” Regina reminded him with a playful swing of her hips and a knowing glance. “There’s a lot we could do with that.”

“Indeed.” Robin reached over and caught her by the waist, drawing her in close. “I’m looking forward to it already.”

Her eyes twinkled knowingly. “On or off the ice?”

His grip on her tightened. “Both.”

Something in Robin had changed after their first time together. All the hardships of his season – the uncertainty, the worries, the ruminating – had faded away, replaced by a sense of calm that he’d never before achieved. He felt it the morning of the short dance: a newfound confidence that he could do anything. He couldn’t say where the feeling came from, only that he finally had the sense that everything was going to be okay. Was this what total clarity felt like? Was this Regina’s confidence rubbing off on him? Whatever it was, he let it carry him to the arena with an extra spring in his step that didn’t go unnoticed by his competitors or his partner. 

“You seem eager to compete today,” Regina remarked as they waited backstage. “What’s gotten into you?”

Robin shrugged and turned on the charm. “Maybe I just want to impress my lady.”

His remark earned him a lighthearted punch on the arm. “I’m just glad your proper costume is back. I hated us not matching at Nationals.”

“Nationals was a trying time for both of us,” Robin said soothingly, “but I’ve put it behind me. I have my sketchbook back. I have a silver medal. I have you…” he trailed off to give her another appreciative look.   
“Sometimes I don’t know where I’d be without you. Probably back in jolly old England watching this on telly.”

“You say that like I wouldn’t be lost without you too,” she said, taking the more serious route. “There’s no way I would have found a better partner than you. Not if I searched for years.”

Robin was truly touched. Sometimes he worried that he relied on her more than she did on him, but any last shred of doubt fell away when he saw the look of blazing determination in her eyes. “It’s almost our turn,” he said. “Are you ready to wow them?”

“One last time for Hamilton,” she responded, slipping her hand into his. “Eliza and Alexander’s last dance.”

Robin was hit by another realization. He couldn’t believe it had taken him all season to make the connection. “Another uptown girl and her downtown man.”

Regina nodded approvingly. “That’s right. We seem to excel at telling that kind of story.”

“Well, you are the queen,” he pointed out.

“Ugh,” she sighed. “My mother insisted on naming me Regina. I’ll never understand why.”

A tinge of sadness clouded over her eyes and Robin was quick to reassure. “I’m sure your mum had her reasons. And I happen to love your name.”

Her gaze turned sly. “Oh? Why’s that?”

He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “It’s rather pleasant to say, if you get my meaning. Especially while we’re…”

She pulled away with an uncharacteristic giggle. “You’re very bad. I’m going to have to pay you back for that one.”

I certainly hope so, he thought as he followed her to the ice. Concentrate now, he schooled himself. Don’t get distracted by a pair of swaying hips… too late. The music started and Regina was already on the move. I’ll never get tired of watching her, he thought as he raced to catch up. And I’ve never seen anyone move so beautifully.

Mills and Locksley moved through the opening set of steps and breezed into the Blues pattern dance with practiced grace. After a season’s worth of training, skating the pattern came as naturally as walking. Spurred on by Robin’s newfound sense of calm, Regina worked double time to keep her steps precise and her edges clean. They sailed out of the pattern to a little burst of applause from the audience and Regina’s shoulders sagged with relief. One element down. Robin moved in to pick her up for the lift and the audience cheered again. She couldn’t help but smile. The program was only half over but Regina already felt like it was their best skate yet.

The dreaded twizzles came next. Robin held his breath and willed himself to stay steady and strong through the travelling spins. He still didn’t favour the element: they stayed in unison but were not as fast as their coaches would like. But for Robin it was a relief just to finish it without a mistake. It had taken months but he finally felt like the accident at the French Grand Prix was forgotten. He’d never be the best twizzler in the world, but at least now Robin knew he could make up for his deficiencies by excelling in other areas. The dreaded no-touching step sequence that had intimidated him so much in the early part of the season felt like second nature now. They sailed through it, earning even more applause from the crowd. One advantage to having the World Championships in a place like Finland was that it was neutral territory for the ice dancers, since Finland did not have a top dance team in the podium hunt. The audience was able to judge the teams on their own merits and today they gave Mills and Locksley their wholehearted approval.

Mills and Locksley scored 74.12 for their efforts: a new personal best. Regina raced to the monitor to see how their score compared to the teams who skated before them. “Look!” she exclaimed, gesturing to Robin to come over. “We’re ahead of Tremaine and Scarlet!”

“What?!” Robin’s eyes stared unbelieving at the screen. “Bloody hell. Will’s gonna hate me.”

Regina gave him a pitying look. “Did you hate him when he was beating you?”

Robin shook his head. “No, of course not. He’s my friend.”

“Exactly. He’d be proud of you for getting this far,” Regina assured him. “And even so, they earned a new season’s best too.”

I guess that’s not too shabby in the grand scheme of things, Robin thought. “They’re less than half a point behind us anyway,” he reasoned. “Anything could happen in the free dance.”

Tremaine and Scarlet would not be the only team to end up too close for comfort: by the end of the short dance, the top five scores ranged from 73 to 76 with barely any breathing room. No one could afford to falter with the scores being this close. Every fraction of a point would count in the free dance.

Regina printed out a copy of the detailed marks breakdown and spent the rest of the day studying it:

Lucas/Booth: 76.47  
Marvella/Gardiner: 76.05  
Troyes/DuLac: 75.90  
Mills/Locksley: 74.12  
Tremaine/Scarlet: 73.84

“It’s still anyone’s game,” she concluded. We’re not that far from the podium, she added to herself. It was so close she could taste it. But it was no time to get complacent. With scores this close, it would be just as easy to move up as it would be to move down. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen scores this close between the top five.”

“It’s quite something,” Robin agreed. “There was a time when scoring 70 seemed too lofty a goal to reach. And now…”

“Now we’re right in the thick of it.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Robin flushed and she shook her head. “And I thought I was the one uncomfortable with PDA.”

Robin caught her eye and held it, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “I’m just not used to it. But I like it.” His eyes twinkled knowingly.

It was Regina’s turn to lean closer. “I know all about what you like,” she reminded him in a low, sultry voice. “And if we weren’t in the middle of the most important competition of the season…” she trailed off, trusting him to get her meaning.

Robin made a stifled sound of longing. “You always say I’m bad, but I think you’re the one who’s being rather naughty right now,” he chided her.

“Good things come to those who wait,” she promised. She didn’t have time to feel guilty for teasing him. The free dance consumed her every thought for the rest of the day and into the night. They were forced to go their separate ways at the hotel – Regina’s roommate wasn’t amenable to overnight guests so Regina found herself alone in her bed for the first time in weeks. The loss was palpable: the bed felt too big with just one person in it and without the extra body heat the thin hotel blankets did a poor job of keeping Regina warm enough. She tossed and turned for hours before drifting into an uneasy sleep. A dream – her first nightmare in months – punctured her rest, dragging her back to wakefulness in the wee hours. The exhaustion was enough to make her weep the next morning as she sat watery-eyed across from the breakfast buffet. 

Robin took one look at her and sent her back to bed. “Get another hour’s rest,” he insisted. “I’ll sit with you if you need me to.”

Back upstairs they went. Regina’s roommate was absent this time and sleep came quickly. Robin was right: when she woke up again she felt considerably better. She tried to thank him but he waved her off. “Can’t have my partner asleep on her feet before the free dance,” he said. 

“Maybe I was getting into character,” she suggested. “Yvaine didn’t like to be awake during the day.”

Robin considered her. “I’m not sure the judges will give you extra marks for method acting.”

Regina rolled her neck and stretched, sitting up properly in bed. “You mean acting doesn’t fall into the Performance category of the program components score?”

“If it did, we’d have the highest PCS mark of any team.”

Maybe we should work with that acting coach again in the off-season, Regina contemplated. We’re going to need every advantage we can get going into the Olympic season. “I have to take a shower,” she said reluctantly, not wanting to leave him alone. “I’d invite you in with me, but if my uptight roommate catches you here I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Robin nodded stoically. “Who’d they pair you up with this time?”

Regina grimaced. “Some uptight singles girl. She needs complete quiet and no distractions in order to ‘get in the zone’ – her words, not mine.”

“Tough break. I got David again.” He gave her a quick, affectionate kiss and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ll leave you to it. See you in a bit.”

“See you,” she echoed. Her eyes lingered on him as he walked away, his t-shirt straining over his tight back muscles. Oh the things I’m going to do to that man once we get some time to ourselves, she thought happily as she ducked into the shower. She caught herself just in time, stifling back an uncharacteristic giggle. When had her mind gotten so dirty? It’s all Robin’s fault, she realized. If he wasn’t so gracious and charming and handsome… but if he wasn’t those things, he wouldn’t be her perfect partner anymore. He wouldn’t be Robin. And as much as the thought of him distracted her, Regina knew she wouldn’t change a thing about him, not even his off-kilter twizzles. If he was completely perfect, he’d be insufferable, she decided. Best to leave a few imperfections so we’ll always have something to strive for.

Regina found Robin again on the bus to the stadium. Ever the gentleman, he’d saved her a seat. She expressed her gratitude by kissing him again – an act that had both Robin and their nearest competitors gasping. “What?” Regina looked up to see Killian and Emma staring at her with wide eyes. 

“Nothing,” Emma said. “You just seem… different this season.”

Regina shrugged and leaned into Robin. “Do I?” Had falling in love changed her? Or was this who she’d always been? 

“Well, whatever you’re doing, it seems to be working,” Emma remarked. 

Regina had to bury her face in Robin’s shoulder to stifle her laughter. “She means you,” she whispered in a voice too low for the others to hear.

Robin managed to choke back a laugh of his own just as the bus pulled into the parking lot. “And who am I to argue with that?”


	14. Worlds Part 2

Regina zipped up her free dance costume for the last time and surveyed her appearance in the locker room mirror. She was sorry to let this dress go, even if its creation had caused her so much distress early in the season. The dark blue brought out the rosier tones in her skin and wearing it made her feel elegant. All around her, the other girls in her warmup group were similarly arrayed: Alice Marvella was in a pale blue Regency inspired number for her Pride and Prejudice program, Ruby Lucas looked sleek in black, Guinevere Troyes was stunning in red and Anastasia Tremaine was ethereal in off-white. Between the five of them, the girls had enough sequins and rhinestones to make a beauty pageant winner wild with jealousy. 

“This is it, ladies,” Guinevere addressed the nervous group. “One last stop before the Olympic season.”

“Let’s make it count,” Regina chimed in. “Good luck everyone.”

The girls filed out of the room in silence, each wearing the same grim expression. They all knew what was at stake. The Olympics were less than a year away and they collectively knew their placements here would have a profound effect on their momentum for next season. No one could afford to put one foot – or in their case, skate blade – wrong. Their partners didn’t look any happier: each of the boys wordlessly found their partners and splintered off to their own corners to await their turns. Regina wordlessly took Robin’s arm, anchoring herself to him as they walked to the waiting area. He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, catching her eye as he pulled away. We’ve got this, he seemed to say. We’re going to be fine. I’m with you.

Words failed her. She dropped his arm and moved in for a hug instead, wrapping herself tightly around him as if she hadn’t seen him in months and needed to cling to him to make sure he was really there. She felt his arm slip around her waist as his other hand reached up to cup the back of her head – carefully, as her hair was half pinned up and he didn’t want to ruin it. They were first to skate in the final group and she could feel his heart thudding away in his chest. Or maybe it was her own heart matching his beat per beat. It was hard to tell anymore where she ended and he began.

John’s voice interrupted them. “Last minute check-in. How are we feeling?”

Regina pulled away reluctantly. “Feeling good, coach.”

“Ready to go,” Robin added, giving Regina a cocky sidelong grin.

John and Ursula nodded. “Get out there and make us proud.”

Their names were announced and Regina and Robin became Mills and Locksley once more. After the warmup, they waited impatiently for the other teams to clear the ice so they could start their routine. Looking up into the stands Regina saw a group of fans holding up a sign: Mills <3 Locksley. She nudged Robin and pointed. “Look at that. We have our own fan club now.”

Robin’s grin grew deeper, setting off his dimples. “No one’s a bigger fan of us than me.”

Regina matched his smile with a determined look of her own. “Let’s prove it to them.”

Robin bowed. “I’d be honoured.”

The announcer piped up again. “First to skate: representing the United States of America, Regina Mills and Robin Locksley!”

Regina took Robin’s hand and skated to centre ice as a swell of applause erupted above them. They circled around each other, taking the precious few seconds they had before the music started to get into character and look each other in the eye one last time before the program started. This is it, she thought. Last event of the season. Last stop before the Olympic prep begins. We’re ready.

The music started with the familiar strain of the string section before the rest of the orchestra kicked in. Robin always moved first at the beginning with Regina a step behind, imitating how their characters clash at the start of the story before finding common ground. We really did start that way, Regina reminded herself as she twirled around Robin and into the mirror twizzles. I thought he resented me when we tried out together and he thought I was the uptight Ice Queen. How the times have changed.

The mirror twizzles always earned them a boost of applause from the crowd. Maybe they’ll become our signature trick, she mused as they moved through the first lift and into the first step sequence. They locked eyes as they came back into dance hold, tracing a deep inside edge on the blades of their skates around the far left corner of the rink. Robin had come to find that he enjoyed step sequences best. It gave him the chance to show off his superior skating skills and to lead his beautiful partner in an intricate pattern from one end of the rink to the other. Regina, for her part, enjoyed the lifts. Where some men picked their partners up like sacks of potatoes and plonked them back down again after the requisite seven seconds, Robin propelled Regina into the air with profound strength and returned her to her feet with gentle ease every time. The one thing that Mills and Locksley could both agree on was the final music cut that accompanied the coronation scene in the film: it was the perfect, grand note on which to end an epic program.  
The audience showed their approval with a standing ovation. Regina waved to the fans holding up the Mills <3 Locksley sign, only to have her ears assaulted with high pitched screams in return. “They really must like us,” she murmured as they took their final bow. “I haven’t heard screeching like that since I went to my first boy band concert.”

Robin chuckled and led her off to the boards. A few plush toys were scattered on the ice so Regina knelt down to pick them up. “Aw look. Someone threw us a plush pony.” They must have seen me wearing my horseshoe necklace, she deduced. The fans don’t miss a thing. 

But Robin was more intrigued by the other toy Regina found. “Is that a little fox?” He took it from her and turned it over in his hands. “Why a fox?” he wondered before it suddenly dawned on him. “Oh! Because of the Robin Hood thing.”

Regina set the pony down so she could put on her skate guards. “Or they think you’re a little bit foxy.” She tried to wink but ended up blinking both eyes instead. Very smooth, Mills. You’re a digrace to the art of flirtation.

But her failure was lost on him – Robin only had eyes for his new mascot. “I think he’s very cute.” Robin patted the fox on its head and waved one it its little paws at Regina, who laughed and nudged him toward the Kiss and Cry. When they met their coaches in the booth, he perched the fox on his shoulder and flashed a dimpled grin at the camera. He’s going to keep that thing forever, the sentimental fool, Regina predicted. But he’s my sentimental fool. She slid in closer to him on the bench and placed a hand on his knee as if to prove her point. Robin caught on and draped an arm around her waist. “How are you feeling?” he said, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “I thought that was our best performance yet.”

“It felt great,” she agreed. “Definitely a season’s best.”

They leaned tiredly against each other as the judges finished tabulating their scores. Their job was done for the day and whatever happened next was out of their hands. “You couldn’t have skated that any better,” Ursula said, seemingly reading Regina’s thoughts. “I’m so proud of you guys.”

“Me too,” John added. 

The scores came up and Regina had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. 109.77! Not just a season’s best, but a personal best. Robin stared slack-jawed at the monitor, uncomprehending. A score like that could actually put us in contention for the podium, he realised. All this time we’ve been chasing the top skaters, trying to catch up to them. But now… we’re not playing catch-up anymore. We’re not chasing the top skaters, we are the top skaters. We’ve arrived. 

Losing all sense of propriety, Robin reached over and pulled Regina into a tight hug, unable to resist kissing the top of her head even though the cameras were right in their faces. Not that Regina seemed to mind. She was hauling him to his feet to wave up at the cheering crowd. He was still dazed, but the familiar grip of her hand in his brought him back to himself. He waved and smiled again, soaking in the praise of the audience before they were shepherded out of the booth by their coaches. “Go rest in the lounge – you’ve earned it!” Ursula said as she half-led, half-pushed her skaters down the hall. Regina pulled Robin along with her, not letting go of his hand for a second, collapsing on the first empty couch in the lounge. Emma and Killian were still there, having skated last in the previous group. Merlin and Nimue were there too.

“That was brilliant!” Killian exclaimed upon the sight of them. There wasn’t even a hint of jealousy in his voice, even though Mills and Locksley had well and truly surpassed Swan and Jones in the rankings. 

The six skaters quickly exchanged pleasantries before they all sat back to watch the next team on the monitor. The order of the skaters in the final group was determined by random draw so Lucas and Booth, despite being the leaders after the short dance, skated next. 

“I know I should hate them for skating to Nightwish, but I love this program,” Emma admitted as the first cut of Lucas and Booth’s music filtered in. 

“It’s like you said last season: if you can’t skate to Finnish music in Finland, there’s no point,” Regina spoke up, recalling something Emma had told her a year ago.

Emma smiled in spite of herself. “You’re damn right. Between us and these two, the Finnish symphonic metal scene has been well-represented today.”

“Don’t forget the pairs,” Merlin chimed in. “Arendelle and Andersson are using Nightwish too.”

“But our friend Tinker was ahead of her time – she skated to “Imaginaerum” last season,” Robin recalled, finally finding his voice.

“I remember that program!” Nimue piped up. “Her spin variations were so cool.”

Everyone quieted down again as Lucas and Booth’s program got underway. The first section of music was the orchestral version of “Amaranth”: a dramatic piece of music used to showcase the team’s first step sequence and their signature split lift. Ruby has great legs, Regina thought, unable to resist feeling a hint of jealousy. I wouldn’t look half as good as she does doing that lift. The program shifted into a slower section to the tune of “Turn Loose the Mermaids”: a melancholy ballad that had the skaters acting out what Regina assumed was a doomed romance between a sea maiden and her landlocked lover. But the best part of the program was the final music cut to “Arabesque” and the intricate step sequence that accompanied it. This is why they’ve won so many competitions, Regina thought as Ruby and August skated through the last minute of the program. The footwork they do is so much more complex than what anyone else is doing, and they’re managing to do it without sacrificing speed or edge quality. She knew before the scores even came up that Mills and Locksley had no chance of beating Lucas and Booth this time. But she wasn’t resentful. The key to beating them in the future will be stepping up our step sequences, she predicted. But for today she was more than willing to concede to the superior team. “They are really good,” she murmured as Ruby waved at the cameras from the Kiss and Cry. “I think that was the best they’ve skated that program to date.”

“But will it be enough to win?” Killian wondered. “The other teams in this group are all very good…”

“They definitely threw the gauntlet down,” Robin said. “As good as they all are, the others will have a hard time topping that.”

Lucas and Booth’s score came up: 112.87. That’s going to be hard to beat, Regina thought. Alice and Jefferson were next to skate and Regina didn’t envy them one bit. Even from just looking at the monitor, she could tell they were nervous. Jefferson always scowled when he was nervous and today his scowl was out in full force. Alice tried to smile to compensate but the gesture looked more like a grimace. 

Their music started and Marvella and Gardiner found themselves again. Nerves or not, they were professionals. Every element in their program was polished to perfection after a season’s worth of practice and competition. But despite their proficiency, Regina couldn’t get into the performance today. Instead of seeing a complete program with a distinct story, she saw a collection of elements set to nice music that didn’t really fit together. Where some of their competitors had improved as the season went on, Marvella and Gardiner had started the season strong and hadn’t been able to grow from it. They skated competently today but Regina wasn’t moved emotionally. For the first time, she was starting to see the cracks in Marvella and Gardiner’s foundation.

She wasn’t the only one to notice either. “Did they seem a bit off today?” Emma wondered out loud. “I thought they skated it better at Four Continents.”

“Not that it’s likely to matter with such a difficult program,” Merlin contested. “But they didn’t seem on, if you know what I mean.”

Regina knew exactly what he meant. As good as Alice and Jefferson were, there had been no extra spark in their performance today. “They were thinking about it too much,” Regina said. “I should know, I do that all the time. Sometimes when you get into your own head too much…”

“…You start to skate on autopilot,” Robin finished for her. “But they’re so strong technically. They’ve probably done enough to stay on the podium.”

“But probably not enough to overtake Ruby and August,” Nimue predicted. The scores came up and Nimue nodded with grim satisfaction: only 108.90 for Marvella and Gardiner. 

“Bloody hell,” Robin breathed. “Did we…?”

“We beat them in the free dance,” Regina realized. Only by a point, and because of the lead they had after the short, they’ll still stay ahead of us in the overall standings. But still. We beat them. For the first time ever, we beat them. A wave of realization washed over her, making her head swim. She leaned back against the sofa, accepting Robin’s proffered arm for support. “I don’t believe it.” Her hands twisted together, desperate for something to hold onto. She’d left her pony with the coaches, so Robin let her borrow his fox. It is kind of cute, she had to admit. Almost as cute as the man who inspired it.

Lucas and Booth arrived to replace LeFay and Ambrose in the lounge. Everyone rushed to fawn over them except for Robin, who was still shaking his head in disbelief when Ana and Will took to the ice. Their program brought him back to his senses. It was hard not to get caught up in Epica’s music which was, for lack of a better word, quite epic. Tremaine and Scarlet’s program started with the melancholy piano-infused strains of “Tides of Time” before transitioning into the heavier instrumental version of “Blank Infinity”. The program was constructed to build to a dramatic climax, culminating in a daring straight-line lift that had Will skating on one foot while Ana posed with outstretched arms above him. All season the final lift had been the showpiece of the program but today it betrayed them. Much as Robin had done last season at Four Continents, Will kept Ana in the air for a second too long and the technical panel slapped them with an extended lift deduction. Tremaine and Scarlet scored 108.95, outscoring Marvella and Gardiner even with the mistake but coming up short because their short dance score had been lower.

They would have beaten us by a hair if not for the deduction, Robin noted, still in a state of disbelief. As proud as he was for all he’d achieved with Regina today, his heart ached for his old training mates. “The scores are so close,” he said. “It’s like 2014 Worlds when the Italians beat the Canadians for the gold by 0.03.”

“It was 0.02, actually,” Regina corrected him.

Know it all, he thought fondly. “Whatever the score, your country was robbed that year,” Robin said to Ruby and August. “But I don’t think you will be this year,” he added after a moment of reflection. “Is it too soon to say that?”

Ruby laughed and came over to give him a congratulatory hug. “That’s sweet of you to say. I always knew I liked you.”

Emma and Killian left the lounge and Marvella and Gardiner took their place just as Troyes and DuLac were starting. Everyone grew quiet again and leaned forward to watch. Lucas and Booth had a half point advantage over Troyes and DuLac going into the free, but after a season of training with the French team, Regina and Robin knew all their strengths and weaknesses. Guinevere and Lancelot liked to tell stories with their programs. Last year’s free dance had been avant garde, but this season they used the Amelie soundtrack as their inspiration and the jaunty music suited them very well. “I never get tired of seeing that spin exit,” Regina said as Lancelot lifted Guinevere off her feet and spun her around. “For a big guy, Lance is so light on his feet.”

Even August, content to be the quiet one in the group, had no trouble praising the French team. “They’re definitely our strongest competition,” he said, “which is saying something, when the field is so deep.” He looked in Regina and Robin’s direction as he spoke and Regina felt her heart lurch. Half of the best team in the world just complimented us. Out of all the teams, we were the ones he singled out. Her mind reeled. Had anyone else seen? She risked a glance at Jefferson but her ex-partner was still staring glassy-eyed at the screen. In the old days she would have comforted him, but that was Alice’s job now. She gave the fox – and Robin’s arm – another squeeze for support.

The marks were announced: 111.23 for a combined total of 187.13 and second place overall. And just like that it was over. All the stress and training of the past season had brought them to this glorious moment: third place in the free dance and fourth place overall. Regina reached for Robin and found him already reaching for her, still in perfect unison even off the ice. They held each other tight until someone cleared their throat. Oh right. They had to leave the lounge. Robin took her hand and they wandered out into the hall, still dazed from everything they’d witnessed. The top three had the medal ceremony and press conference to contend with but Regina and Robin were content to change out of their cumbersome costumes and enjoy what remained of the competition.

“I can’t believe it,” Regina whispered to Robin once they were seated in the stands. “Fourth in the world…” 

“I know. It’s surreal.” An expression of dumbfounded shock had settled on Robin’s face even though he shook his head to clear it. “I never dreamed I’d be here.”

“You never imagined yourself this close to the podium? I used to fantasize about it all the time.”

“Is that so?”

“Ever since my first skating lesson. I used to practice how to stand on the podium and sing the national anthem. I even practiced how to smile and shake hands with the officials, with my dad pretending to hang a medal around my neck.” The memory made her cringe now, but as embarrassing as it was, all that practice had helped prepare her for the real thing. 

Robin chuckled and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Now I know why you’re always so poised when we step onto the podium.”

“You know me. I don’t do things by halves – I commit.”

“Indeed.” He draped an arm around her shoulders, inviting her to move closer. “It’s one of your many admirable qualities.”

Always the flatterer. She couldn’t resist giving him a kiss on the cheek for that. “You can tell me all about my other admirable qualities after the ladies free program.”

“I intend to.”

They settled in to watch. Lilith Page, the second-ranked American lady in the mix, cast a spell over the audience with her emotionally charged skate to music from Puccini’s Scheherezade. Regina had never paid much attention to Lily before, but today she found herself completely drawn into the story. “She’s really grown as a performer this year,” Regina remarked. 

“And her jumps have gotten more consistent too,” Robin added.

They sat through several other girls before any of their favourite took their turns. Jefferson and Alice snuck in between groups and for one fateful second Regina thought they were heading her and Robin’s way before Alice directed Jefferson to another row. Alice gave Regina a nod of reassurance behind Jefferson’s back. At least we’re all amicable now. That was a good start. Regina sensed Alice’s reluctance was not because of any lingering tension between the former partners but because she was classy enough not to intrude on a romantic moment. I’ll have to text her a thank you note later, Regina thought. 

Finally Tink’s turn came. Regina and Robin leaned forward in unison to get a better view as their friend skated to centre ice and stuck her opening pose. All three seemed to breathe in at once as the music – selections from the tango opera Maria de Buenos Aires – started to play. The tango had been an experiment for Tink this season. While her coaches had relented and let her skate to “Rey’s Theme” for her short program, they designed the tango free program to be a complete departure from anything she’d ever skated to before. Watching her all season had been an exercise in second-hand stress: it was an ambitious program from both a technical and an artistic standpoint and it had taken an entire season’s worth of non-stop practice to perfect. But watching her now, you’d think the girl on the ice was born to skate a tango. Every movement of her arms and upper body was sharp and precise while her feet and legs flowed naturally over the ice surface, maintaining fluidity throughout the routine. The tango, with its sharp staccato movements, was one of the hardest styles of movement to translate from the floor to the ice, but Tink was pulling it off today.

“I always get so nervous when she skates,” Regina said after Tink finished and skated off. “As much as this program has grown with her all season, I think she’ll be more than happy to move on from it.”

“It’s paid off for her big time though. Her scores have been inching up all season,” Robin pointed out. “She might have even done enough to make top ten this year.”

Regina rubbed her cold hands together. “I hope so. She’s worked so hard…”

Robin reached over with his free hand to take one of hers. “Extra chilly in here today,” he said, but she knew he was just looking for an excuse to hold hands. Tink’s score was announced – 120 and change – and he dropped her hand to applaud. “That’s a season’s best for her, isn’t it?” He looked to Regina for confirmation after the cheering died down and he’d taken her hand again. 

“That’s a personal best,” Regina confirmed. “Not just a season’s best. See? Sometimes it’s good to get out of your comfort zone. Like with our hip hop program this season.”

“And the Latin pattern next season.” Robin’s lips quirked into a smile but his eyes clouded over ever so slightly.

“Oh, come on. You figured your way around the hip hop. You’ll be fine with the Latin dances.”

Robin slouched down in his seat. “I wish I had your confidence. Right now I’m worried my… what did you call them? My ‘white boy hips’ will be a problem again.”

She rolled her eyes. “At least that’s a problem I know how to fix. Now shush. It’s Ashley Boyd’s turn.”

Neither Regina nor Robin had seen much of Ashley this season but they did know she’d exceeded expectations at her first Grand Prix only to bomb at the second one. She’d outskated all the other women at US Nationals only to get soundly beaten by Kira Yukimura and Jasmine Hart at Four Continents. Ashley’s Boyd’s career had been marred by inconsistency but she had a gritty determination that Regina admired. “I wonder which Ashley will show up today – the one that nails all her jumps or the one that falls multiple times,” Regina muttered as the music started. Ashley’s free program this season was to music from Puccini’s Madama Butterfly – a safe choice, but a beautiful one when performed well. Today’s performance was the latter: nuanced and elegant, highlighting the beauty of the music and the tragedy of the story. “That’s the Ashley I know,” Regina said. “She has so much potential. I just wish she could skate like this all the time. She could be a real contender if she just developed some consistency.”

Ashley’s score put her ahead of Tink. The next girl in the group, the Russian prodigy du jour, had a rough outing and then the Zamboni went around to clean the ice for the last two groups. “Do you think Ursula and John will let us skate to Florence next year?” Robin mused. 

Regina had been wondering the same thing. “Maybe if we humour them with whatever they’re already planning for the short dance, they’ll be more flexible. But I’m worried they’ll say it’s too risky to try anything too different for an Olympic season.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why we need to push for it,” Robin said. “It’s an Olympic season, after all. Go big or go home. Especially when a lot of our competitors will be taking the more traditional route.”

Regina cast him an admiring glance. “Since when were you such a rebel?”

Robin shrugged. “I’ve always fancied myself a bit of an outlaw, you know.”

“Right.” She nodded. “The Robin Hood thing.” She leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “You certainly stole my heart,” she teased, letting her lips brush against his skin. 

Robin cleared his throat, his face turning red. “I’m honoured you’d trust me with something so valuable. Don’t worry about John and Ursula. I’ll convince them to let us use Florence. It’s your dream program.”

“But is it yours?” She gave him a significant look. “Or do you only want it because I do?”

“And what’s so wrong with that? I like her music too. And I think if we put the right pieces together, we could come up with something incredible.”

Social graces be damned, she needed to kiss him. Her mouth was against his before he even saw her move and she pulled away before he could even react. “Don’t get excited,” she scolded him when he opened his mouth to protest. The last thing we need is for some snap happy photographer to have captured us making out on camera.

“Hard not to,” he protested, staring intently at her parted lips. “I’ll get you back for that later,” he promised, licking his own lips in preparation. “A proper snog. And maybe more if you’re up for it,” he added with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Let’s just watch the rest of the girls skate,” she said, shifting in her seat so she was facing the ice surface again. “The warmup’s already started. If anyone caught us on camera, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who kissed me,” he reminded her.

“It’s your own fault for being so charming. I couldn’t resist.” She turned her head away, forcing herself to stare straight ahead. But in her peripheral vision she sensed him moving closer and didn’t protest with he planted a soft kiss on her cheek. “Later,” she promised. 

They had a while to wait before anyone they knew skated. Jasmine Hart, the top Canadian lady, skated last in the second last group to music from the Sinbad soundtrack. Regina had only seen the program once before, but it was much improved from the last outing. “She changed her combo,” Regina noted. “She was doing a triple toe-triple toe before but now she’s doing a triple salchow instead.”

“The salchow’s worth more points, right? She probably wanted to maximize her score. Get closer to the big guns,” Robin guessed. “Did you watch this show when it was on?”

“Sinbad?” Regina shook her head. “I thought it only aired in the UK.”

“Maybe it did,” Robin mused. “It wasn’t a bad show. Only lasted one season.” A little lightbulb when off in his brain. “The lead actor kind of looked like our friend Merlin Ambrose.”

Regina wrenched her eyes away from Jasmine’s performance to gawk at Robin. “Really?”

Robin nodded. “Only with longer hair and guyliner.”

Regina grimaced. “Don’t tell Killian. He’ll be jealous.”

Regina kept quiet through the rest of the performance. Jasmine had come a long way in a brief period of time. She could be a real contender next season – good news for Canada, but bad news for the rest of the field. Her marks put her in the lead but only temporarily: the final group still had to skate. Regina’s nerves kicked in knowing that Elsa was skating soon. She’d come so close last year – second only to Kira Yukimura – what would happen this time?

Kira skated first, flawless as usual with her Pacific Rim music. Regina and Robin both felt a twinge of guilt for enjoying Kira’s performance as much as they did. They wanted Elsa to win, but neither of them could deny Kira’s talent. Elsa won’t be able to put a foot wrong, Regina fretted. If she wants to win this thing, she’s going to have to skate completely clean. Even a tiny underrotation could leave her off the podium with the scores as close as they are. They both watched Elsa like hawks when she took her turn, but their worries were unfounded. Elsa skated with her usual combination of regal grace and fierceness, outscoring Kira by the tiniest fraction of a point. Elsa won gold today, but the war between the two rivals would continue for another season.

Regina was utterly spent by the end of the women’s free program. Robin practically had to drag her from the stadium back to the hotel where she promptly fell asleep still dressed. Robin stayed, even though Regina’s roommate gave him the evil eye when she returned. That was when she awoke: startled to see him still there and disoriented from dreaming. “Let’s get you something to eat,” Robin suggested. “And let’s camp out in my room for the night,” he added in an undertone. She was too tired to argue. She wanted a good night’s rest before the pairs free program tomorrow. Snow would never forgive her if she dozed off during her and David’s skate. Pairs was Robin’s favourite discipline after dance, but after this year’s competition, Regina had developed a newfound appreciation for the ladies’ division. But pairs was the order of the day: not just Snow and David but Robin’s old friends Costa and Perrault and their personal favourites Mills and Crane. Mills and Crane came through victorious with their Lord of the Rings program, but the Canadian and Russian teams that joined them on the podium also posted very high scores. Another great rivalry for next season, Robin thought at the end of the day. The casual viewers who only watch skating during the Olympics will certainly get their money’s worth.

A calm settled over all the skaters at the post-event banquet but it was not the usual end-of-season camaraderie. Everything up until this point was just practice. Next season was the one that really mattered: the Olympic season, and all the high and lows that would come with it. This was the calm before the storm. In a few months, everyone would be rushing to get their programs choreographed, their music selected and their costumes created. No more room for error. Only room to go big or go home.

Regina and Robin both sensed it. It was there in the stiff politeness between competitors and the fixed smiles of the coaches and officials – smiles meant to distract from the political agenda reflected in their cold eyes. Everything from now on would only get harder: more hours at the rink, more off-ice conditioning, more monitoring from the skating federations and more attention from the press. But the skaters also sensed something else: they would need each other now more than ever. “Are you ready for what’s to come?” Regina whispered as they took the elevator back to their floor. “The next step in our journey?”

It was in times of adversity that the true measure of a person could be taken. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Robin promised. “As long as I get to skate with you. We have our whole future ahead of us. No need to rush into it until we actually get there.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “You’re so wise. It’s very sexy.”

"Is that so?” He reached over to brush a stray piece of hair away from her face. “Maybe I learned that from you.”


	15. Dance Machine

“Alright, people. Let’s start again from the top.”

Robin groaned and stretched his aching joints before Cyrus had a chance to start the music again. He didn’t need to look up at the wide bank of mirrors to know he was sweating profusely. They’d been in the dance studio for nearly an hour and all Robin wanted to do was lie down and take a nap. He loved dancing: he loved practicing new holds and new styles, but learning Latin dance had not been an easy path. His hips, not accustomed to moving with such fluidity, ached after every session. Somehow Regina still managed to look composed, even with a light sheen of sweat coating her forehead. She was a natural at this but after five lessons he could still only consider himself on the higher end of average.

Cyrus pressed play on the sound system and the dancers leapt into action again. Cursing the dance instructor, Robin fought to catch up. At least the footwork was manageable, lightning fast and relentless as it was. He focused on keeping on the beat, staring straight ahead, not daring to look down. He’d already been chastised four times for that today. Cyrus traversed the length of the room, complimenting and critiquing each dancer in turn. “You still need to work on your hip action” was his advice for Robin, though the dance teacher at least recognized his posture was good. “You almost need to exaggerate the movement,” Cyrus explained, ever patient. “It won’t be as noticeable on the ice.”

“Right,” Robin grunted in response. The bottoms of his feet burned in their dance shoes and the minute Cyrus’s back was turned, Robin slouched away to steal a mouthful of water from the fountain in the corner. Cool relief flooded his senses when the deluge splashed up over his chin. He swallowed and rolled his neck, letting the last few drops cascade down his neck and under the collar of his t-shirt. I’m getting in the shower the moment we get home, he thought blissfully. 

Regina materialized by his side. “Move over – I need a sip.” She nudged him aside without waiting for a response. “Mmm,” she sighed happily after bending her neck toward the water. “That’s better.”

And it was. The sight of her always cheered him up. His muscles still burned but now the rest of him was burning too. Burning for her.

“Come on.” She got behind him and shoved him forward. “Class is almost over.”

Robin crossed his arms like a child being sentenced to detention. “Our teacher plays favourites,” he complained, jerking his head in Cyrus’s direction. He was across the room giving Alice special attention and correcting her posture.

“Now you’re just making excuses,” Regina chided him. “Come on. Dance with me.” She gave his hand a little tug, tilted her head and flashed her most winning smile – the smile she knew he couldn’t resist. 

Three months had passed since the World Championships but the off-season had not come without its changes. One of the biggest changes was in Robin and Regina’s living arrangements. They still lived in the townhouse with Tink, but recently a fourth person moved into the spare room downstairs: Tink’s girlfriend Elsa. It had been an adjustment for everyone, most of all for Elsa, who was accustomed to living alone. With two couples living under the same roof, certain ground rules had to be enforced. 

“No sex in the common areas!” Tink had screeched one afternoon when she returned unexpectedly from a shopping trip only to find Regina and Robin making out on the sofa in the living room. The noise was also a problem. There was nothing like waking up in the middle of the night only to overhear your housemates going at it. After a few awkward mornings after, everyone had agreed to keep it down.

But now the off-season was ending. The skaters were gradually getting back into their routines and plans for the upcoming season were underway. Today’s dance class was just a warmup for the season’s required Rhumba pattern dance. And as much as Robin chafed under the harsh studio lights, he knew they needed every bit of practice they could get because their competition would not be slacking off. 

“You’re getting better,” Regina reassured him on the drive home. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Latin dance is hard to learn – especially the rhumba. And it doesn’t help that the Rhumba pattern is so different on the ice than it is on the floor.”

Robin knew she was right. He was better than he’d been a month ago when the lessons started. But would it be enough? I conquered hip hop last season, he reminded himself. I can conquer this. “I just hope Mal doesn’t put me in a silly costume this year,” he fretted. “I’ve seen the things the men wear on Dancing with the Stars…”

Regina snorted as she made the final turn into their driveway. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll be in all black with a hint of whatever colour she puts me in on your shirt collar. I’ll probably be wearing some fringe tasseled nightmare with a skirt that barely covers my ass.”

And what a perfect arse it is, he thought dreamily as she slid out of the parked car and sauntered up the walkway. He rushed after her and looped a hand around her waist as she rattled her keys in the lock. “You’d look gorgeous in anything,” he assured her.

She twisted around to give him a quick kiss before throwing open the door. “You’re just saying that. What I’m really worried about is that she’ll give me a weird headpiece.”

Robin followed, his hand still resting against her back. “Is that a thing?”

“Remember the 2006 Olympics? Headbands were definitely a thing back then. It’s officially retro now.”

“Did someone say retro?” Tink chimed in from the kitchen. “How was dance class?”

“Sweaty,” Robin lamented. “I’m going to hit the shower,” he added to Regina, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek before departing. 

Tink watched him go, shaking her head. “Is he still worried about the stupid rhumba?” she asked once Robin was safely upstairs with the shower running.

Regina slumped onto a stool at the breakfast bar. “You know Robin: he worries. After skating, playing the guitar and art, worrying is his favourite pastime.”

“But you’re meeting the choreographer next week,” Tink persisted. “What if he’s not ready?”

Regina knew her partner too well to pay any heed to Tink’s concern. “He’ll be ready once he has something he can focus on. Right now the short dance is an abstract concept for him. Once we have the choreography nailed down, he’ll have an easier time wrapping his head around it.”

“If you say so.” Tink turned her attention back to whatever cooking experiment she had going on the stove. It looked like a stirfry – rice and mixed veggies tossed in light sauce – but knowing Tink it could turn into something else entirely. Tink had been trying her hand in the kitchen more often lately. Regina suspected it was a play at impressing Elsa.

“Forget the damn rhumba for a minute. Is your coach any closer to nailing down music for you?”

Tink’s back, which was turned to Regina, stiffened. “Ugh. I can’t even talk about that.”

“Why not?” Regina wrapped her knuckles against the countertop and Tink only cringed more. 

“She’s worried about being saddled with a warhorse,” Elsa’s ethereal voice drifted in from the other room. “That’s what the fans call it when a skater uses a piece of music that’s been overused,” she elaborated after seeing the confused look on Regina’s face. 

Regina had never heard the term. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” 

Elsa bobbed her head. “My coach is trying to sell me on skating to Evita this year,” she admitted. “But I think that music would suit Tina better.”   
The look of affection that accompanied this statement warmed Regina’s heart. “I don’t know. I think you could pull Evita off too. You’ve definitely got the hair for it.”  
Elsa ran a self-conscious hand through her platinum blonde ponytail. “I see where my coach is coming from. I really do. But… it’s going to take more than a warhorse to beat Kira Yukimura. I need to stand out.”

“And you will,” Regina predicted. “You won the World Championships for a reason, Elsa. You’ll stand out no matter what you skate to because you’re good.”  
Regina’s words charmed Elsa so much that Tink piped up to tell Regina off for hitting on her girlfriend. Regina made a quick escape upstairs as soon as the girls got back to cooking, stripping off her sweaty workout gear and surprising Robin in the shower. He groaned upon the sight of her and had her backed against the damp wall before she even knew what was happening. “I thought you were tired,” she giggled as he attacked her neck with a flurry of kisses. 

“Not that tired,” he assured her, grinning against her skin as his mouth made its way down her shoulder. “Never too tired to enjoy some alone time with my beautiful girlfriend.”

Regina wrapped her arms around his waist as pushed his hands further down her bare body. “Make it quick. The girls almost have dinner ready.”

“Soon,” Robin promised, “we’re going to send the girls out for an entire evening and I’m going to take my sweet time enjoying you.”

“And I’m going to be as loud as I need to be,” she added. “Now get on with it, handsome. I need you.”

They were back downstairs five minutes later and if Elsa or Tink suspected a thing they wisely kept their mouths shut.

****

The work began anew when Mills and Locksley found themselves back at the rink for the first training session of the bare bones of what would become their new short dance. So far they’d only been practicing the rhumba pattern to different pieces of music and testing potential new lifts. But Ursula and John, ever wary of the competition, wanted to have the music chosen and the choreography nailed down before too many other teams had the chance to announce theirs first. “Last time we had a Latin dance pattern, we ended up hearing the same music over and over again,” Ursula recalled. “But if we can get in there first…”  
“Then we look like the innovators while everyone else looks like they’re copying us,” Regina supplied. “Can we settle on “Mas Que Nada” for the pattern at least? It’s more dynamic than some of the other pieces we’ve practiced to.”

Ursula and John were divided on whether to play it safe for the short dance or take a risk. But Regina had a plan: if we can convince them to let us play it safe for the short, maybe they’ll be swayed to let us take the risk and do Florence and the Machine for the free, she reasoned with herself. Besides, there’s only so much risk you can take with Latin ballroom. Surely they understand that. Her gaze flickered between the two coaches. She tried to guess who would crack first. Ursula had known her the longest but John seemed to be more easily swayed by her moods. 

John relented first, as predicted. “Let’s run the pattern to “Mas Que Nada” one more time,” he said. He already looked tired even though they were only an hour into training. Just what I need – if he’s tired he’s more likely to agree, Regina thought. Play it cool. Don’t argue. Practice the pattern. Ugh, the pattern. She was already sick of it. It was only six years ago that we last had the rhumba pattern. They couldn’t have given us a tango this year? Or a samba? Or literally anything else? “Ready?” she asked Robin. “Let’s get this over with.” She took her place beside him – the rhumba pattern placed the skaters side by side in a kilian hold – and put on her best smile.

“You’re up to something,” Robin surmised. The music started and they took the first steps. The rhumba wasn’t his favourite pattern either. The side-by-side hold wasn’t as challenging and the steps were slower than some of the other patterns, but the dance featured some quick changes of edge that kept it interesting. “Care to let me in on it?” His eyes twinkled at the promise of mischief.  
“If we humour them about the short dance, they’ll let us have more input on the free,” Regina said as they sailed around the first corner. “John looks stressed today and Ursula’s on edge. It’s the perfect time to pounce.”

He grinned, never missing a beat of the music. “I like it when you’re being devious. Count me in.”

“I like it more when we’re being devious together.”

They ran the pattern two more times – once to a Shakira song and once to “Historia de un Amor” before everyone agreed “Mas Que Nada” was the best choice. Ursula and John retreated to their coaches’ corner to decide what other song to pair it with for the tempo chance while Regina and Robin did a few more laps around the rink. “They’re on the ropes,” Robin whispered, unable to keep the undertone of glee out of this voice. “I wonder what they have in mind for the tempo change.”

Regina had a theory. “I’m betting on “Magdalenha” or something else by Sergio Mendes. Our coaches would rather put two songs by the same artist in a program than two random songs that happen to fit the tempo requirements.” As if on cue, John started the music again and “Magdalenha” came on. “They’re so predictable,” Regina sighed. “It’s adorable.”

Robin took her by the hand and started to skate in time to the music. “Let’s give it a try,” he said, encouraging her to catch up. “They need to think they’ve made the right choice.”

Regina played along, allowing the tempo of the music to guide her steps and her movements. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed Ursula and John were watching. It was almost too easy.   
“Alright you two, that’s enough,” Ursula declared when the song ended. “You can tweet about the music selections using your new joint account.”

Regina choked back a giggle. Twitter accounts were the latest attempt by the US Skating Federation to stay relevant in a changing world. Regina was the mastermind behind the Mills/Locksley handle, sending out periodic tweets and posting the occasional cute picture for the fans to obsess over. 

Robin still had his reservations about Twitter, so he let Regina handle most of the work. “I’ll never understand the appeal of that wretched website,” he said after Regina posted the tweet from her phone and closed the app. “Too many little birds twittering on and on about nothing at all.”

“Just wait – it’ll be irrelevant in a few years and we’ll be using some newer medium to communicate,” Regina predicted. “We should reserve a Tumblr URL now just to be safe. I’m sure it’ll be the next thing the powers that be jump on the bandwagon of.”

“Why wait – we could start a Tumblr now,” Robin joked. “Maybe I’ll run it while you handle Twitter.”

“No way. I want in on that action.” Regina crossed her arms and tried to look tough but he only laughed. “You laugh now, but I’m serious. Back when I was skating with Jefferson, it was all about Facebook. Back when I was a novice, we still had MySpace.” She glided over to the gate and skidded to a well-practiced stop. “Better clear off before they change their minds. Guin and Lancelot have the ice booked after us.”  
Regina and Robin hadn’t seen much of their intrepid training mates since Worlds. The French team had participated in a series of ice shows in Europe before taking an extended vacation in Spain. When Regina suggested to Robin that Guinevere and Lancelot were avoiding them now that Mills and Locksley had proven themselves to be more competitive, Robin gently disagreed. “They’ve just been busy,” he insisted. “They had a tough season after the coaching change and they deserved some time off.”

“Sure.” Regina plopped down on the bench to take off her skates. “That’s why we’ve barely spoken since April.” She glared across the auditorium to where Lancelot and Guinevere had just arrived in their workout clothes. 

“Oh, love. Paranoia doesn’t suit you.” Robin offered the other team a cheery wave and they responded in kind. “See? Nothing to worry about.” He took a seat next to her and started unlacing his skates. Regina shrugged and busied herself with packing her skates back in their bag. Just as they were leaving, they overheard Guin and Lancelot’s short dance music start up – an instrumental piece from the West Side Story soundtrack. Regina let out a gasp and dragged Robin into the hallway where they wouldn’t be overheard. 

“I knew they were up to something!” She gestured wildly at the closed door that led to the rink. “We almost skated to West Side Story two years ago, remember?”  
“Ah yes.” Robin nodded, humouring her for a moment before making his point. “Two years ago. If I recall… that’s a whole year before Guinevere and Lance came to train here.” He looked to her for confirmation, his bright eyes dancing.

Regina bit back a scathing retort. She always forgot to be mad when he was looking at her with those baby blues. “You’re right. I’m just being petty and it’s beneath me.”  
Her choice of words gave Robin the perfect opportunity to smooth things over. “Not that being beneath you is a bad thing,” he pointed out. His eyes skimmed lazily over her figure for emphasis. “I can think of far worse things.”

Regina dropped her bag and backed him up against the wall, shutting him up with a passionate kiss. The suddenness of it had him gasping against her lips, which she took as an invitation to bite. He groaned and dropped his own bag, winding both arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him. Regina pulled his lower lip into her mouth and sucked lightly, relishing the noise that rose from his throat. After months of being quiet for Elsa and Tink’s sake, she wanted to make him feel it. 

But Tink appeared as if summoned by her stray thought. “What did I say about PDA in the common areas?! Honestly, you two have no tact.”

Regina backed far enough away to shoot her housemate a withering look over her shoulder. “You said no sex in the common areas, not no PDA. And we’re not at home right now.”

“The rink counts as a common area,” Tink grumbled, shuffling off toward the door. “I just came to tell you that Ursula’s looking for you.”

Regina huffed and reluctantly extracted herself from Robin’s embrace. “Better go see what she wants.”

Ursula was frowning when they entered her office. “I know what you two are up to.”

Regina feigned innocence, widening her eyes and tilting her head. “Up to?” 

Ursula didn’t buy it. “Let’s get this out of the way: what do you want in exchange for your cooperation on the short dance?”

Regina and Robin exchanged looks and Robin gave her the nod. “We want creative control over our music choice for the free dance,” Regina said. “Is that something you’re willing to give us?”

Ursula sighed and sunk down into her swivel chair. “This is about Florence and the Machine, isn’t it.” Before Regina could plead her case, Ursula waved a hand to silence her. “It’s a creative risk, guys. I don’t know if the skating world is ready for it.”

“Or it’s exactly what we need to stand out,” Regina spoke up. “Everyone is going to be going the safe and traditional route this season. We need to stand out if we want any hope of winning.”  
“No risk, no reward,” Robin chimed in. “Our skating skills and technique are more than good enough to carry some unfamiliar music. We could create a program that’s so good technically that the judges will have to reward us for creativity as well.”

“It’s not enough for us to be good at following the current trends. If we want to be remembered, we have to be innovators,” Regina went on.

“I know,” Ursula said. “I spoke to Mal this morning about some new costume ideas.”

Regina was taken aback. “So you’ll let us do it?”

Ursula smiled and everything changed. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, but I think you’re ready. Have you decided which songs you want yet?”

“Um.” Regina started. There were so many. How would they ever choose?

Robin came to the rescue. “We’re still batting a few different possibilities around,” he said. 

“Tell you what: you give me a playlist of your top five or six favourites by the end of the week. We’ll pass it along to John’s friend who does the arrangements and he’ll put together a few different cuts for us.”  
“Great!” Regina said before anyone had a chance to argue. “We’ll have that list for you right away.”

Ursula chuckled, shaking her head as if to say, these kids will be the end of me. “Nothing too hasty, now. This has to be Olympics worthy.”

****

Three days later, Regina was ready to tear her hair out.

She’d been listening to all three of Florence’s albums back to back ever since their fateful chat with Ursula. There were so many beautiful songs to choose from… how was she supposed to know what was Olympics worthy?

Robin, seeing her distress, took a different tactic. “We need to think of the great medal winning programs of the past. What did they look like? What did they sound like?” 

Regina flopped over on the sofa and started the Ceremonials album again. “They sounded like the same old classical music that everyone and their brother has skated to for decades,” she lamented. “Why did I ever think we could do this?”

Robin nudged her to the side and sat down next to her. “That wasn’t quite the answer I was looking for. I meant to say… what feeling did those great programs of the past evoke? How did you feel when you watched Virtue and Moir’s Mahler program in 2010?”

“Now that was a program.” Regna sat up and draped her legs across Robin’s lap. “It was… ethereal. Transcendent. It was unlike anything anyone had done before.”

“Exactly. Not all the programs of the past were… what was the world Elsa used? Warhorses? But they were grand and cinematic and memorable. We just need to find some Florence songs that recreate that feeling.”

Cinematic… that was the word she’d been looking for a minute ago. Regina skipped ahead to track seven – “Seven Devils” – and let it play. “I heard this one in a movie trailer once,” she recalled. “It doesn’t get much more cinematic than that.”

They let the song play through. It had a steady beat, soaring vocals and an orchestral background that built to the climax. It could work… but they’d need at least two songs for the FD. And Robin already had an idea. “Try the fourth song on her third album,” he suggested. “It reminds me of you.”

The fourth song… “Queen of Peace”? Of course. Of course the song with the word Queen in the title reminded him of her. “You’re so predictable,” she sighed as she queued up the song. 

“It’s a great song,” he said defensively. “And it has that transcendent quality you spoke of earlier.”

He’s right, she thought as she listened through it again. It’s grand. It’s got a classical undertone. It builds up to a big finish. It’s powerful. It’s perfect. How did he know? How does he always know? “This is the one,” she said before the song was even finished. She could feel it in her bones.

Robin smiled and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “I had a feeling you might say that.” He turned the music off and exhaled deeply. If Tink and Elsa hadn’t been just out of earshot in the kitchen he might have tried for more. But he had no intention of getting on his housemates’ nerves when Tink was still on edge from the other day. She’d been on edge a lot lately. 

“Are you done then?” Tink herself interrupted his train of thought. “Or are you going to keep playing these bloody records over and over again?”

Regina frowned at her. “I think we’re good.” 

“Good.” Tink nodded. “Dinner’s ready.” She skipped back to the kitchen without waiting for a response.

“What’s with her?” Regina wondered later when she was getting ready for bed. “She’s been a bit blunt these last few weeks. More blunt than usual. It’s probably just pre-season stress, right?”

“Probably,” Robin agreed. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Our Tinker is a trooper. She’ll work through whatever’s bothering her in her own way.”

I hope he’s right, she thought before letting herself drift off to a deep sleep. If something’s wrong, it will sort itself out. And if she needs help, I’ll do the best I can to be there for her.


	16. Creative Differences

“No way. I wouldn’t be seen dead in that.” Regina pushed the pink fabric away with a shudder.

“Oh sweetheart.” Mal picked up the offending material and stashed it away in her bin of fabric remnants. “That one wasn’t for you. Perish the thought. I have something much better in mind for you.”

Thank God, Regina thought to herself. At least I won’t end up looking like a flamingo. But who will? She tried to picture her closest competitors in bright pink but the image refused to stick in her brain. 

“I’m thinking of something more in the fuchsia family,” Mal said. “With lots of sequins, of course. A shorter skirt for the short dance. Maybe some well-placed cutouts too.”

“Whatever you think is best,” Regina said, keeping true to her vow not to complain about the short dance. “Just no fringe please, for the love of sanity. Now about the free dance…”

Mal waved her off. “I’m still conceptualizing that one, darling. When it surfaces, you’ll be the first to know. Now let’s get you measured again.”

Regina stood perfectly still while Mal wrapped the tape measure around her bust, waist and hips. She always hated this part – being put on a pedestal and being evaluated. The possibility of being found wanting in some way. As unfair was it was, looks were an important factor in her chosen sport. And if those numbers ever changed for the worse, she’d be in trouble.

“You’re good to go,” Mal said after recording the numbers on a chart. “I’ll send Ursula my sketches and we’ll meet again next week.” She offered Regina a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry so much, darling. I wouldn’t let you skate out there in something tacky. I’ll make it fabulous. I always do.”

“I know,” Regina said. “You’ve never steered me wrong. You’re the best costume designer I’ve ever worked with.”

Mal’s smile widened, showing a hint of teeth. “You flatter me, darling. Be a dear and send in my next customer, won’t you?”

Mal’s next customer, as it turned out, was none other than Guinevere Troyes. Regina gave her rinkmate a polite smile even though the sight of the other girl made her blood boil. I’m fine sharing a rink with Guin, but now she’s moving in on my costume designer and my discarded music choices. Who does she think she is?

She walked out of the studio in a huff to find Robin chatting with Lancelot on the patio outside. Boys are so simple: they don’t think about these things, she thought as she caught Robin’s eye. Robin and Lance have no problem being friends. So why can’t I be a better to friend to Guinevere? Am I that threatened by her? Stop it, Mills. Now you’re just being petty. Sometimes she couldn’t help but be petty. There were some cases where she thought her pettiness justified, but this probably wasn’t one of them. She didn’t even bother mentioning it to Robin on the drive home. 

But even her usually tranquil home had a shadow hanging over it today. It was Wednesday – not her favourite day of the week to begin with – but recent developments in the blogsphere had made it even worse. Sidney Glass updated his blog every Wednesday with the latest ill-gotten gossip and as much as Regina tried to ignore his entire existence, others always conspired to remind her.

“I told you to stop reading that trash,” Regina barked at Tink, who had Sidney’s blog open on her laptop. “You need to stop giving him pageviews. The idiot actually thinks he’s onto something.”

“I know, I know. But here me out – Snow sent me the link. There’s good news for once.” Tink waved Regina over to her spot on the couch, shifting the laptop across the coffee table to give her a better look. “Wendy Darling found a new partner!”

“Oh Wendy!” Regina had not forgotten how the young skater had come through for them a few months ago when Robin’s sketchbook was stolen. “Good for her. Who is he?”

Tink clicked the source at the bottom of the article, which lead to Wendy’s Instagram page. The picture showed Wendy, happy and rosy-cheeked, hugging a dark-haired young man who wore a matching grin. “His name’s Neal Cassidy. He’s a year older than her, but last year he was still competing at Juniors. His first partner decided to quit and go to college full time, but he wanted to keep skating.”

“They’re adorable,” Regina murmured. “God, they look young. When I was that young…” she trailed off. I was still skating with Jefferson then and competing against Robin. Now I’m skating with Robin and competing against Jefferson. What a difference a few years makes. 

“Well, I think they’re laying it on a little think,” Tink grumbled. “She’s already calling him her Bae. With a capital B.”

“Whatever.” Regina stood up and stretched. “I think they’re cute. But let’s wait and see how they actually move together on the ice before we jump to any conclusions.”

“Ooh,” Tink murmured, scrolling through Wendy’s feed. “She’s not even following her ex-partner anymore.”

Regina shut Tink’s laptop with a click. “Enough, Tink. Not everything is a conspiracy. I would’ve unfollowed that little cretin too after the stunt he pulled.”

“But he’s still following her!” Tink protested. “What do you think that means?”

“It means he’s a stalker,” Regina said matter-of-factly. “I think someone’s had too much social media for one day.”

Tink harrumphed and opened the computer again. “Says the girl who wants to start a Tumblr page. Have you seen the skating side of Tumblr? It’s all Yunabots and Yuri on Ice gifs.”

“Has anyone seen that video of the Russian girl skating to the Sailor Moon music?” Elsa, who had just entered the room, spoke up. “It was so lovely.”

Tink’s expression softened at the mere sound of Elsa’s voice and Regina took the opportunity to leave them in peace. She retreated back to the kitchen where Robin had already started on dinner. The image of him leaning over the stove stirring a pot of rice was a welcome sight. Or maybe it was just his toned backside in those fitted jeans that was a welcome sight. Either way, she slid in behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hi,” she murmured against his ear. “Did you miss me?”

“I always do.” He nudged her away from the stove, backing her toward the opposite counter instead. “Did I hear right?” he asked. “Wendy has a new partner?”

Her back bumped up against the counter as he pressed in against her. “Mm hm.” Tink’s warning about PDA in the common areas shrilled in her memory but she slung both arms around his neck anyway. “They look very sweet together.”

Robin bent his neck to kiss her. “I’m more interested in us being sweet together,” he confessed after surfacing. 

“Later,” she promised. “When the girls are distracted.”

He pressed his hips against hers in anticipation. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Regina Mills always kept her promises. Later that night, after teasing him relentlessly with her hands and her mouth, she rolled over onto her belly, inviting him to kneel behind her. “I can use the pillow to muffle the noise,” she pointed out. She was warm and ready for him when he aligned their bodies and melted into her with a satisfied groan. “You feel even better from this angle,” he managed to say. “I can’t decide how I like you best.”

“Quietly,” she reminded him with a giggle. “And… go slow. I’m not used to doing it this way.”

“Yes ma’am,” he agreed, proceeding at a languid pace. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, running a reverent hand down her spine. Her back arched to meet his caress, her moan effectively stifled against the pillow. “Keep doing that, love. I like to watch the way you move.” His hands slid down her backside, squeezing lightly and releasing her when she moaned again. “And I like this.” He gave her a bottom a fond pat.  
You always did, she thought as another pulse of hot pleasure seeped through her. Ever since our tryout, you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off it. “I thought you liked being able to look me in the eye,” she teased, pumping her hips to aid the effort.

“I like you from every angle,” he confessed, leaning over her to whisper into her ear. “You’re a true wonder.”

“You’re pretty great yourself.” She arched her back again just as he pushed deeper and they both groaned in unison. “Oh! Stay there.”

He sat back and did it again. “Here?” 

“Mm. Right there.” She risked a glance over her shoulder and what she saw – him staring at her with utter reverence, nearly pushed her over the edge. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “You feel so good like this.”

It was the talking that always threatened to undo him. That low, sexy voice of hers, seeping its way into his mind and taking control over his every move. He wanted nothing more than to please her, to make her finish in a crashing wave of pleasure with her hands gripping the pillow and his name in her mouth. He got his wish – even with her voice muffled he distinctly heard her gasp his name before going slack beneath him. “That’s my Regina,” he murmured. “Can I turn you over now, my love? I need to see your lovely face again.”

“Yes,” she whimpered as he withdrew. “Are you close? What do you need?”

“Just let me see you,” he begged. “Let me kiss you.”

She smiled lazily as he eased back into her and covered her mouth with his. He pushed in deeper, once, twice, three times, and she came again, biting back her cries. It didn’t take him long after that. When it was over, she wriggled her way back under the thin sheets and snuggled up next to him. “Do you think we were quiet enough?”

“I hope so. We’ll hear about it in the morning if we weren’t.”

She let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. “I can’t believe Champs Camp is only a month away.”

“I can’t believe you want to talk about skating now,” he chuckled. “I wonder where they’ll send us for our Grand Prixes this year. Or for the Challenger Series.”

“Maybe we’ll get Nebelhorn again,” she considered. “Or maybe Finlandia. Our last competition in Finland was pretty successful.”

So many variables. So many places they could be assigned to compete, and so many worthy competitors to compete against. But first, they needed to be armed for the battle ahead with two perfect programs. Putting the short dance together had gone smoothly with the coaches taking the reins, but the free dance was still very much in the conceptual stage.

“We need a plot,” Ursula said at the next training session. “What exactly are you trying to say with these pieces?”

Regina gritted her teeth. They’d been working through the bare bones of a new diagonal step sequence but Ursula kept peppering her with questions she wasn’t prepared for. Was this what it was like to be a full-time choreographer? “I’m not sure yet,” she admitted. 

“If you don’t know what you’re trying to say, how will anyone else know?” Ursula persisted. “How will the judges, the audience, the people at home, know? You have to have a character to commit to. That’s how you’ve always operated.”

Robin, sensing his partner’s frustration, stepped in. “It’s about a powerful woman,” he said. “A woman who’s been pushed and pulled by different influences her entire life. She falls into madness, then she breaks free and finds herself alone for the first time. That’s where I come in.” He flashed her a sideways grin. “My character supports her instead of fighting against her. For the first time, she has an ally in her quest. And she emerges victorious in the end.”

Ursula gaped in disbelief. Robin swallowed nervously. Oh no. He’d been working on the storyline ever since they’d settled on the two songs. What if they hated it?

“That’s good,” Ursula murmured, nodding her head slowly as she ran back over everything he’d just said. “That’s very good. That could work.” She turned away to talk to John, who was already scribbling down ideas in a notebook. 

Regina spun on her skate blades to face him. “Did you just make that up?”

He exhaled, letting go of the nervous breath at last. “No. I’ve been… conceptualizing it for a while now.” She was staring at him. Oh no. Was that disapproval in her eyes? Did she not like the story? The intensity of her gaze was making him sweat; those dark eyes burning straight through to his very core. Please say something, he begged. I couldn’t bear it if I let you down.

“I love it,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “You’re a genius. You always know what to say when I can’t find the words.”

The suddenness of her movement jarred him into making a wild grab to regain balance that ended with her sandwiched between him and the boards. She let out a giggle and shoved him playfully away. “If this is how you react to one little compliment…”

“I wasn’t expecting you to launch yourself at me,” he muttered, but he forgave her instantly. His Regina was always surprising him. 

“Oh please. You love it,” she scoffed. “I hope you have that written down, though. Everyone will be expecting an explanation for this high-concept program of ours.”

He gulped. He hadn’t thought of that. Usually he let her do the talking in interviews. 

“You’ll be fine,” she assured him. “It’s always easier to talk about something you’re passionate about.”

“I agree. Though I fear I lack your eloquence.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. Anything sounds more eloquent with an accent like yours. You’ll have those interviewers at Champs Camp eating out the palm of your hand. Just you wait.”

****

Mills and Locksley kept the details of their new free dance under wraps until the grand unveiling at Champs Camp. Everyone was being secretive this year: with the Olympics less than six months away, everyone was upping the ante and refusing to show their cards. The mood wasn’t as cordial as it had been last year. The skaters were polite with each other and that was all. Regina was relieved to be assigned a room with Snow instead of any of the ice dance girls. The last thing she needed right now was the extra drama.

Not that Snow didn’t come with drama of her own. Regina had barely set her bags down before Snow was regaling her with her latest tale of woe: apparently David had gotten serious lately and wanted to have long, important conversations about their future. Regina was baffled. “Isn’t that what every girl wants – for her boyfriend to commit?” she pointed out. “I thought you of all people would be the first one to start making plans for the future.”

The other girl’s upper lip quivered with worry. “I don’t even know if he means our future career or our future as a couple. I love skating, but if he’s thinking about what I think he’s thinking about, I don’t know if I’m ready for that kind of commitment.”

Regina made a noise of disbelief. This was a girl who’d had her entire wedding planned out by the age of 12. I hope David likes pink and white roses, she thought with a smirk. She’ll probably make him wear a pink tie to match. Has she shown him her wedding scrapbook yet? “You’ve been living with him for nearly two years and you’ve been partners for longer than that. Is that not a major commitment?”  
Snow sighed, flopping back on her bed. “I talked to my dad about it.”

Regina bristled. She hadn’t seen Mr. Blanchard in nearly two years, and for that she was eternally grateful. But as much as she disliked the man, she cared for Snow more. “Yeah? And what did he say?”

“He thinks we’re too young,” Snow pouted. “But just because he waited until he was older to get married doesn’t mean I have to do everything exactly the same. I’m not his little clone. But I think in his mind I’m still a baby.”

Regina sighed. “Well, he’s going to have to get over that. You’re your own person, Snow. And if your dad can’t recognize that, then that’s his problem, not yours. You should do what you think is right.”

Regina finished her little speech and Snow brightened instantly. “You always know what to say,” she cooed, giving Regina a strangling hug. “And who knows… if we do get married someday…” someday soon, Regina thought shrewdly, “I want you do be my maid of honour,” Snow continued.

Regina was taken aback. Snow had so many friends – truly, people flocked to her the way animals flocked to Disney princesses – too be singled out for such an honour took her by surprise. “Let’s get a proposal out of that boy first before you get ahead of yourself,” she suggested, gently changing the subject. And hopefully David has the good sense to hold off for a while, she added to herself. The last thing we need is for Snow to go full Bridezilla right before the Olympics. If he has half a brain under that handsome visage, he’ll wait until the season is over.

“But enough about me – what about you and Robin?” Snow sat up and fixed Regina with one of her know-it-all stares. “Are you guys any closer to making the big leap?”

The notion was so ridiculous Regina laughed out load. “Oh, please. We’ve only been together for a year and a half. And only sleeping together for the last few months. It’s way too soon to be talking about anything else.”

But Snow was unconvinced. “I don’t know, Regina… Robin’s a pretty romantic guy. I’m willing to wager he puts a ring on your finger sooner than you think.”

But Regina knew Robin better than Snow did. He wasn’t the sort of person to rush into anything. He eased his way in, taking his time to get his bearings before doing anything drastic. But when he committed to something… he committed 110%. Which was why if he had any notions of marriage, he would bring it up with her long before he even thought about proposing. No. Marriage was not in the cards any time soon. For Snow and David, maybe. But for Regina and Robin? She hadn’t even given it a second thought. Getting married and having a big fancy wedding was Snow’s dream, not Regina’s. 

She resolved to put it out of her mind and enjoy Champs Camp. They drew the dubious honour of being first to perform their new dances for the panel of officials and though Mills and Locksley had grown unaccustomed to being first to skate, they made the most of it. Feedback for their new programs was promising: the officials liked what they saw and didn’t request any changes. “At least now we can relax while we scope out the competition,” Regina said after they’d changed out of their practice clothes (Regina’s new free dance dress still wasn’t ready.) 

Robin grinned and took her hand, pulling her into one of the windowed rooms that overlooked the arena. “I like it when you’re being devious. And this is the perfect place to spy from.”

In the arena below, Aurelius and Jameson were warming up to start their free dance run-through. Regina leaned toward the window to watch but Robin seemed more interested in watching Regina. “Cut that out,” she scolded when he snuck up behind her and tried to nuzzle her neck. “I can’t pay attention when you’re doing that.”

Robin pretended to pout. “You wound me, my love,” he said, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “How shall I go on?”

Regina smirked and turned back to the window. “Save it for later, handsome. Right now we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands.” She nodded toward the ice surface below them. “These two look really good. They look like they’ve been training hard.”

“So have we,” Robin tried to say, but he couldn’t deny his partner’s words. Kathryn and Frederick both looked sharp and in shape. He couldn’t quite hear the music from up here, but it appeared to be a stately dramatic piece from the way Kathryn and Frederick were moving. “I’d say Swan and Jones have more to worry about than us,” he said, brushing aside his doubts for both their sakes. “They’re the ones who dropped a bit in the standings last season. I’m sure Aurelius and Jameson would love to sneak in and take their place.”

“And Swan and Jones won’t take kindly to that kind of one-upmanship,” Regina predicted, “so it will be more competitive all around. Especially for us. We have to worry about staying even with Marvella and Gardiner and getting ahead of them, but the next two teams in the mix will be gunning for us too.”

Robin had a different opinion. “Swan and Jones will fight it out with Aurelius and Jameson, but I still think we’re a step ahead of them both, and right in step with Marvella and Gardiner.” She looked doubtful, but he wasn’t having it. “Let’s just focus on doing the best job we possibly can,” he said, taking her hands in his, anchoring them both. “We’ve got this. I can feel it.”

“We’ve got this,” she repeated. She repeated it over and over again in her head until she believed it. 

At the end of the camp, the skater’s assignments for the Challenger Series were announced. In a strategic move, none of the top four dance teams were assigned to the same event, thereby giving everyone a chance to start the season strong. Mills and Locksley were assigned to Finlandia Trophy in Finland, in addition to their two Grand Prix events in China and Russia. Regina was disappointed not to be assigned to Skate America until Robin pointed out that after the Grand Prix ended, they will have skated in all six Gran Prix host countries.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” she said to him later. “You’re cute when you’re being clever.”

It said a lot about their relationship that Robin could still feel the flush of flattery when she said things like that. “You still think I’m cute?” he said, his eyes twinkling knowingly. Her withering stare only made him grin more. “And we’ll get to see Elsa at Finlandia. She’s being very secretive about her music choices this year since she shot down Evita.”

“Very secretive,” Regina echoed. “Do you think they’re alright? Elsa and Tink?” 

Robin considered the question. He tended to be the first one to pick up on the feelings of others and while he had noticed a slight change in the girls’ relationship dynamic in the last few months, he hadn’t thought much of it. “They’re both just stressed about the season,” he surmised. 

Regina remained unconvinced. Her brows knitted together with such fury Robin wondered what she’d seen that he’d managed to miss. “I hope you’re right,” she said, shaking it off with a wave of her hand. “Things will get awkward fast at home if those two end up on the outs.”

“I don’t think it will come to that,” Robin said soothingly. “They both know what’s at stake this season. They won’t risk doing anything too drastic before the Olympics.”

Here’s hoping Robin doesn’t do anything drastic either, Regina thought, reflecting back on her conversation with Snow. What we all need right now is a little bit of stability in these unstable times. No need to fix something that isn’t broken.


	17. The List

Regina got sick the second time they competed in Finland.

She wasn’t prone to getting sick, so waking up on the morning of the free dance with a scratchy throat was unnerving. Regina didn’t like being unnerved. It made her edgy and angry. And when Regina was angry, she dealt with it by channelling all her energy into her skating, which lead to Mills and Locksley earning top marks for their new free dance.

But anger – especially Regina’s anger – was tricky to manage. It filtered over into the medal ceremony, the press conference and the farewell banquet. It hung over her head on the long plane ride home and while her first instinct was to go straight to bed and sleep it off, she arrived home to find her housemates arguing. Had she been in a better mood, she would have tried to defuse the situation. But her throat was so dry it felt like she was swallowing over sandpaper, so she went straight to her room and collapsed on the bed, leaving Robin to handle it.

The girls – Elsa and Tink – were glowering at each other when Robin slipped into the kitchen to put a pot of chicken soup on the stove. “Regina’s sick,” he explained. Though Elsa had been at Finlandia too, they hadn’t seen much of her and she’d come home on an earlier flight. She’d been in a good mood after winning her portion of the competition, so what could have set her off? As good as Robin had become at reading and understanding Regina’s moods and emotions, Elsa was still a bit of a mystery to him. Her tendency when provoked was to flee and his entrance had given her the chance. She ducked out of the kitchen when his back was turned, leaving Tink seething on her stool at the breakfast bar.

Robin added the ingredients and stirred the broth to stall for time. He hadn’t witnessed a lover’s quarrel since his old roommate Phillip had rowed with his girlfriend back in England. That fight had been after a competition too. Could Tink be jealous of Elsa’s success? He dismissed the idea almost as soon as it floated into his head. Tink was single-minded and focused, and she could hold a grudge almost as well as Regina, but she was too proud of Elsa’s success to be jealous. So what could it be?

He set the spoon down with a sigh. “Are you still there, Tinker?”

Tink huffed in response. “This is my house too, Robin. I can sit here if I want.”

“Of course you can,” Robin agreed. He was determined to be polite even in the face of rudeness. He was the lone man in a house full of angry women. He had to tread carefully. But he wasn’t the one Tink was mad at anyway, so maybe he could help. “If there’s anything you want to talk about…” he trailed off and gave her a close-mouthed smile. Tink didn’t even flinch. He turned back to his cooking, wondering if he should add a few more pieces of carrot to the mix. 

Tink kept silent while he sliced and diced, waiting until he’d put the extra veg in the pot and added the cutting knife to the dirty dishes pile. “I’m the worst girlfriend in the world,” she said at last.   
“Don’t be silly,” Robin chided her. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

His words only made Tink groan and bury her face in her hands. “I’m a disgrace. I’m too needy, I’m not supportive enough…”

“Come now. I’ve never met a better cheerleader than you.” He turned away from the stove and stationed himself across from her. “What’s brought this about?”

“I… I changed my relationship status on Facebook and she freaked out,” Tink muttered, not meeting his eyes. “I didn’t say who I was in a relationship with, but Elsa’s worried that with all the time we spend together…”

“… people would put two and two together and they’ll realize she likes girls,” Robin finished for her.

Tink flinched away from him. “I can’t talk about this with you. It’s weird. I need Regina.”

“Regina’s not saying much of anything right now,” Robin reminded her. “Hence the chicken soup.” The pot hissed a reminder and he turned around to tend to it. “I know you’ve known Regina a lot longer than you’ve known me,” he said as he stirred, “but if there’s anything I can do… I know I’m only a straight white male, but that’s all the more reason for me to use the privilege that comes with that for good.”

Tink narrowed her eyes at him. “Why the sudden show of support?”

“Well… I do have a personal stake in it, given who my housemates are and who I’m dating.”

Tink was around the counter and punching him on the arm before he even had a chance to react. “She told you! When did she tell you?”

Robin’s cheeks burned. “Last summer, when we were with my family in England. My dad’s brother came over for tea one day and he said something unseemly…”

“Something homophobic,” Tink translated.

Robin nodded. “And I didn’t contradict him. After he was gone, Regina took me aside and scolded me. She said she had no intention of dating me if I shared my uncle’s attitude. Which I don’t, for the record. But this was the same uncle who’s given me grief my whole life for being a figure skater, so I tend to tune him out when he speaks.”

“Understandable,” Tink conceded. “Were you… were you surprised? I know a lot of guys are weird about bi girls.”

“Not really,” Robin admitted. “I’ve seen how flustered she gets around Mal. And the way she notices other girls. I think a part of me always knew. In the end… I’m just honoured to be the one she chose.”  
Tink punched his arm again – she was aiming for his shoulder, but ended up catching his elbow instead, a testament to their height deferential. “So what should I do? I should just talk to her,” Tink said. “Elsa, I mean. Not Regina.”

Robin nodded. “I find talking helps. And listening.”

Tink suddenly grinned. “I’ll bet Regina talks your ear off.”

Does she ever, he wanted to say. But instead he said, “She has her moments.”

Tink sighed. “Elsa’s not much of a talker.”

“All the more reason to listen,” Robin pointed out. “I find with people who don’t talk much… when they do speak, they chose their words very carefully. They only say the things they really mean.”

Tink hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re right.”

Robin turned back toward the stove, giving Tink the chance to slip away. Once the soup was done he took a bowl up to Regina, who eagerly gulped it down. Her throat was so sore she couldn’t talk at all. But she didn’t need to: Robin could read her moods as easily from her body language and her eyes as he could from her voice. Her eyes were warm with gratitude but her posture was heavy from lack of sleep. So he gallantly tucked her in and let her be, returning to his own room for the night. After growing accustomed to sleeping next to her every night, Robin’s bed felt big and empty with just him in it. And as for falling asleep…

He couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, Robin’s mind drifted back to the competition they’d just finished. The success of their new free dance had been the talk of the event, but the short hadn’t gone as well. Regina had missed a key point in the pattern, so Ursula and John would have them doing run-throughs until everyone wanted to tear their hair out. 

But not until Regina was feeling better. She kept to her room for a few days so avoid passing her sickness on to the others in the house. Elsa and Tink reached a quiet truce, though the nature of their argument was still a mystery to Robin. It had to be about more than just a Facebook status change. He could tell Regina had her theories: with her voice lost, her mind was doing double duty to make up for it.   
“I must say – I miss the sound of your lovely voice,” he said to her the night before they were to resume training. She glared at him. “What?” He feigned innocence. “I like the way you talk… that low, sexy lilt…” he glanced up at her to see that her eyes had turned playful. “It’s quite a turn on,” he added. 

His flirting earned him a throaty cough. “Lower than usual,” she groaned. “I sound like I should be singing alto. Or tenor.”

Robin shook his head. “I’m just glad you’re talking again.”

The smile he received in return was broken by a deep yawn. “Once I’m back to 100%, I’ll remind you just how much you love hearing me talk,” she promised. “And how much you love the other noises I can make.”

Naughty little minx, he thought. “Never fear, milady. I plan on giving you plenty of reasons to talk and make noises.”

But first Regina had to channel the last remnants of her anger. The next morning, she dragged Tink and Elsa into the living room and sat them down on the loveseat. “Whatever is going on,” she growled, her voice still an octave lower than usual, “I need you two to work it out. I’m not leaving until you do.” She fixed them with her fiercest glare and crossed her arms for emphasis. The girls squirmed under her scrutiny and in her peripheral vision Regina saw Robin peer around the corner and duck away. Smart man, she thought. I’ve got this handled.

She expected Tink to crack first. In all the years they’d known each other, Regina could see the telltale signs of stress on her housemate’s face: watery eyes, red cheeks… that was how Tink reacted. But it was Elsa who spoke first. “It’s all my fault,” she whimpered. “I was checking Sidney’s blog and I saw…”

The tricky thing about anger is that if you can’t find a way to expel it, it finds another way of getting out. At the mere mention of Sidney Glass’s name, Regina felt a sickening swoop in her stomach and a horrible crawling sensation of angry words fighting to explode from her mouth. She did her best to swallow it down, inhaling and exhaling deeply before she spoke again. “I thought,” she intoned, in a slow, measured voice, “we agreed never to mention that name ever again.”

“I know!” Elsa lamented. “And I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have, only…” she trailed off, eyes welling with tears. 

Tink took up the cause. “Anna called the second Elsa got home saying we had to check the blog. The bastard claims to have a list of closeted skaters. A list he’s threatening to release.”

Regina’s anger finally coalesced. “I’ll kill him,” she growled.

“That’s not all,” Elsa spoke up. “He wrote something about you and Robin too.”

Regina had vowed never to look at the blog. Looking will only give him pageviews, she’d said. He’s a troll. If we ignore him, he’ll get bored and bother someone else. But Sidney hadn’t gotten bored. Not only did he still have it out for Regina, now he had it out for Elsa too. “I don’t believe this,” Regina said when she finally had the website open on her laptop. “Someone caught a picture of me kissing Robin at Worlds and sent it to him!”

Robin, sensing that he was needed, ducked back into the room. “At least it’s a flattering camera angle,” he pointed out, trying to lighten the mood. The girls all glared at him. “It’s just a picture, love. Elsa’s the one we need to protect.”

Selfless to a fault, Regina thought. She nudged Tink aside to give Robin a better view of the screen. “Take a look at the caption and tell me we shouldn’t all be suing him for libel.” 

“Mills and Locksley: bad romance or sad showmance?” Robin read. “Oh. I get it. He thinks we staged it to get people taking.”

“He thinks our entire relationship is fake!” Regina hissed, her voice cracking. “He thinks we’re putting on a show for the fans.” She forced herself to breathe in and out again. This is bigger than you and Robin, she reminded herself. What Sidney just did to Elsa is far worse. “He has no right to post these things,” she seethed. “We have to do something.”

“What do you propose?” Tink fired back. “Are you going to yell at him again? Because that worked out so well the last time.”

“No,” she said. “We need to get out ahead of this. We need a distraction. If we can get the skating press into a frenzy about something else, no one will pay any attention to Sidney.”

Elsa recoiled. “No way. I’m waiting until after the Olympics to come out. I’m not going to be bullied into it.”

Tink turned to Regina with fire in her eyes. “I can’t believe that’s your first suggestion! Can’t you see she’s terrified?”

Even Robin was offended. “Really Regina? I’m surprised at you. After everything you’ve done for Elsa…”

“But don’t you see?” Regina stood up and pushed away from all of them. “This isn’t about Elsa. This is about me. He’s still trying to get to me.”

“Oh my God!” Elsa exclaimed. “It’s not all about you, Regina. You’re not the one he’s trying to expose.”

“Actually, it is,” Regina insisted. “Ever since I was a junior skater, Sidney Glass has singled me out. For every little mistake, for every misstep and every misspoken word. I’ve ignored him most of the time, until the time I couldn’t. And I can’t do it anymore. The only way to scare a bully is by fighting fire with fire. So no, Elsa. Your secret will be safe with me until you chose to reveal it on your own terms. That’s your right and I would never take that away from you.”

Elsa sniffled, smiling despite her tears. “Thank you. But what are you going to do?”

“I can see the wheels turning in your head, love.” Robin tilted her face toward his. “What are you planning?” Let me help, he begged with his eyes. “Let’s take that bastard down once and for all.”

Tink threw up her hands. “I’m lost. Care to fill me in on this brilliant plan of yours?”

“If Sidney wants a witch hunt, then I’ll give him one,” Regina declared. “Someone has to stand up to him. We just need to find someone who’s willing to take one for the team. Someone who’s willing to admit that there’s a kernel of truth to his sick little list.”

“Oh, come on!” Tink scoffed. “You really think someone is going to out themselves to take the pressure of Elsa?”

“I do,” Regina said. She turned to face the group, game face smile at the ready. “And I know exactly the person to do it.”

“Who the hell are you talking about – oh.” Tink finally got it. “But Regina… you’d really do that?”

“Oh, she would,” Robin spoke up. “She’s the bravest person I know.” His smile of reassurance was so bright it lit up the room. 

“I don’t understand,” Elsa murmured, her confused eyes flitting from person to person. “Regina, are you…?” She let out a squeak when it dawned on her. “But… how? You’re with Robin. You like guys!”

“Most of the time, sure. But sometimes…” Regina let the sentence dangle. “Fine, you caught me. I’m only a Kinsey 2, but for all intents and purposes… I’m bi. The fact that I’m dating a man does nothing to negate that.”

Elsa flushed, clearly embarrassed. “Of course it doesn’t! I just thought… I just thought you were an ally. I didn’t realize…”

“I didn’t either,” Regina admitted. “For a long time, I was in denial about it. And not having enough time to date certainly didn’t help me reach this conclusion any sooner.”

“But Regina! You can’t. I can’t let you throw yourself into the line of fire for me.” Elsa shook her head. “This is what Tink and I were arguing about when you got home. Tink wanted to take the hit for me, since a lot of people in the skating community already know about her. But I wouldn’t let her.” She took her girlfriend’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “And I don’t want to put this on your shoulders, either. It isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t fair,” Robin spoke up, “is some person, some ignorant man, thinking he has any right to make this decision for anyone. Straight people never have to tell the world they’re straight.”

“After today you’re the only straight person under this roof,” Tink piped up, finding her old bravado again. 

Robin looked thoughtful. “Perhaps so. Although I must admit: there is one rather handsome actor I’d make an exception for.”

Ha! Regina thought. That’s why he’s watched those Captain America movies so many times. 

“And being the one with the privilege here, I’d like to put it to use,” Robin continued. “I won’t let you do this alone, Regina. If you want everyone to know, then of course I’ll support you. But I want to be a better ally as well, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course we will,” Tink said. “I knew you were a good egg, Robin Locksley.”

“So did I,” Elsa echoed. “You’ve made me feel so welcome here. I was afraid you’d be a creep about it.”

“What we need is a plan,” Regina said. “We can’t let Sidney out anyone, but what we can do is stand up against this bullying. And the only way to do that is by making him feel guilty.”

“But how will we do that?” Elsa wondered. 

Regina was already thinking several steps ahead. “What we’re going to need,” she said, “is the kind of bait Sidney won’t be able to resist. And I’ll have to make the call I’ve been dreading.”

****

“Well, well, Regina Mills. I finally get the honour of an exclusive interview.” Sidney smiled, baring his teeth. “Let’s get down to the nitty gritty, shall we?”

“Let’s do,” she agreed. “We need to talk about the list.”

She’d agreed to meet him in a public place – a café close to her home during off hours, and only after her broken voice had healed. Robin and the girls stayed in the car to wait for her signal. Today’s the day Sidney Glass finally gets his comeuppance, Regina thought. Her gaze dropped pointedly to the recording device on the table.

Sidney, predictable as ever, took the bait and switched the recorder off. “I’m not sure this is something I want on the record.”

Regina shrugged. “Why not? I only agreed to this interview because you expressly promised me you wouldn’t release the list if I did.”

“Indeed I did. But it’s a long list, Miss Mills. And now that I’ve got you here, I’m not sure one interview’s gonna cut it. Don’t be surprised if I call you for another favour in the future.” He grin widened and it was all Regina could do not to reach across the table and slap him. Disgusting man, she thought. I’m doing to enjoy destroying him.

Sidney smirked and turned the recorder back on. “So. Let’s talk about your… relationship with Locksley. Is it real or fake?”

“Real, of course,” Regina said. “Even I’m not that good an actress.”

A brief look of disappointment flashed across Sidney’s face before he continued. “You really don’t like me very much, do you, Miss Mills.”

“I don’t like anyone who threatens to out people,” she said, lowering her voice so the other patrons couldn’t hear. “Not only is it cowardly, it’s also bullying. And it’s dangerous. What if someone on your list was from a country that isn’t LGBT friendly? Do you really want that on your conscience?”

“You’ve made it very clear you don’t think I have one of those,” Sidney said. “I’m a journalist, sweetheart. Freedom of the press isn’t completely lost in this country.”

“So you’ll do it for the clicks and the pageviews?” she countered. “Did it ever occur to you that you’re messing with people’s lives? Or that it’s none of your damn business who others choose to love?”

“I’ll do it because I believe the people deserve to know the truth,” Sidney continued, smiling all the while. “Figure skating hasn’t had a major scandal since Salt Lake City, my dear. If I break this news, I’ll be famous. Then they’ll have to give me my press credentials back!”

“So it’s all about you, is it? You’d invent a scandal just to profit off the pain and suffering of people less privileged than you? You make me sick.” Before Sidney could react, Regina reached out and swiped the recording device from the table top. “Too slow!” she crowed when Sidney tried to grab it back from her. “Really Mr. Glass, I thought you were smarter than this.” She gave the recorder a quick glance over. “Do you think there’s enough evidence on here to get your website shut down? I’ll have to ask Mr. Gold. He knows much more about the legal ramifications of this sort of thing than I do.”

“Give it back!” Sidney whined and lunged across the table. Regina climbed onto her chair and held the recorder aloft. 

“Come and get it, you creep!” Regina waved her arms out of reach. “How does it feel, Sidney? How does it feel to have your life spiraling completely out of control? Because what you’re feeling right now – that’s how the people on your list will feel if you expose them. And I’m guessing it doesn’t feel very good.”

“You bitch!” Sidney screamed. “I’ll knock you off that chair if you don’t –” 

“Ahem,” a new voice interrupted them. “That’s quite enough of that.”

Finally, Regina thought. It took him long enough. She looked down from her perch to see Mr. Gold, the top official from the US Skating Federation, glaring at the scene with deep disapproval. And he wasn’t alone: Robin, Tink and Elsa were with him. “Get down from there at once, Miss Mills. You’re making quite a spectacle of yourself.”

Regina reluctantly sat back down and readied herself for the fireworks. 

“And Mr. Glass. I must say, I was quite surprised when Miss Mills called me to report on you again. I always got the impression that she was rather put off by my presence.” Mr. Gold shot Regina a look that made her shiver. He wasn’t wrong. Even now she couldn’t meet his eyes. “But if what I just heard is any indication, I imagine you’ll be looking for a new line of work once the lawsuit is settled.”

“Lawsuit?” Sidney blanched. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Gold. Miss Mills is the one who has stolen my property.”

“Meanwhile you’re the one who’s been making a nuisance of himself all over the internet for months now,” Mr. Gold continued, completely unfazed by the accusation. “Have you seen his blog, Miss Mills?”

Regina shook her head. “I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

“Smart girl.” Gold gave her a little nod of approval that did nothing to reassure her. “I have seen it, filled with lies and innuendo as it is. Very distasteful. And all very libelous. Yes indeed, Mr. Glass. Even before Miss Mills contacted me, there were a number of complaints about your internet presence. Complaints from all over the world, in fact. I took my concerns to the International Skating Union only to hear they were already onto you. Imagine my surprise.” But Mr. Gold did not look surprised. Only disappointed. “They’re shutting you down, Mr. Glass. Even now, our lawyers are drawing up the cease and desist. The only thing we need from you is the list.”

“And what do you want with it?” Sidney spoke up, finally finding his voice. “That information was not easy to come by!”

“It will be destroyed of course!” Mr. Gold’s voice rose so quickly everyone in the room flinched. “Along with your career. A small price to pay for keeping our athletes safe from unwanted scrutiny.” Mr. Gold, despite being much shorter than Mr. Glass, managed to make the taller man shrink so completely he couldn’t say another word. Mr. Gold seemed inclined to end the conversation there. He signaled to someone behind them and two security guards appeared out of nowhere to escort Sidney from the premises. 

The moment he was gone, Robin sat down beside Regina. “You were brilliant,” he cheered. “I can’t believe you climbed onto the chair.”

“She was indeed,” Gold agreed, making them both jump. “You have my gratitude, dearie. I’ve been trying to get rid of that lying bastard for years.”

You’re welcome, Regina thought, though she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “I only did what I thought was right,” she said instead and tried to smile.

“Indeed,” Mr. Gold agreed. “The last thing the skating community needs before the Olympics is a scandal.”

Regina’s half-smile slid into a frown. “I’m sorry?”

“A scandal,” Mr. Gold repeated. “My dear girl. You know as well as any of us the position of prestige our niche little sport holds in the Winter Olympic tradition. If something were to happen to disrupt that position… the consequences would be dire indeed.”

Realization dawned on her as her stomach twisted again. “You don’t even care about the athletes who were almost outed,” she accused. “You only care about maintaining the status quo of the frozen closet.”

Mr. Gold said nothing more. He didn’t have to. His sinister little smile said it all. He nodded to her and took his leave, leaving Regina and the others with nothing more to do but stare after his retreating figure. 

“From one smug bastard to another,” Tink mumbled, finally settling on something to say. “I never liked him either.”

“At least Sidney’s out of the picture,” Elsa spoke up. “We did what we came to do.”

Regina sighed. “Then why do I feel like it wasn’t enough?”

“Regina,” Robin said soothingly. “You can’t change the face of our sport overnight. There are so many longstanding ingrained prejudices. Too many for one woman to take on. Even a woman as remarkable as you.”

“Is it so wrong of me to want everyone to have a fair chance?” she reasoned. “Yes, everyone has a right to choose how to come out if they want to, but the real issue is that there’s no support system in this sport if they do. Even Johnny Weir waited until after he was retired. If people like Gold had their way, everyone would stay in the frozen closet forever.”

“But it is changing,” Elsa pointed out. “Look at the Canadian pairs skater who came out. And the American guy who did. People like Mr. Gold are a dying breed. And some day there won’t be room for their prejudice anymore.”

“And it’s not like old Goldilocks is getting any younger,” Tink pointed out. “He won’t be in charge forever.” 

There was a vindictive edge to her voice that Regina recognized all too well. She’d heard it in her own voice often enough. “Let’s just worry about getting through the Grand Prix,” she said at last. “Something tells me we’ll need all our strength – mental and physical – to survive the Olympics.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter... honestly, this chapter surprised me. I set out to write a cute story about skating and shipping but the more I've delved into the history of the sport and in my own desire to be more inclusive, I ended up writing this storyline about LGBT skaters and the rough roads they've had to travel for recognition. I love watching skating, but I can't deny that this is a sport that is still heteronormative and sexist. I re-read this old article from before the last Olympics that got me thinking about everything again - if anyone's interested, here's a link: http://www.newsweek.com/2014/01/31/frozen-closet-245138.html  
> If anyone has any issues with this chapter, feel free to talk to me - I want to be a better ally, so it's very important to me that my LGBT characters are being written with care.


	18. The Matter at Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter is very different in tone than the last one was. That's my own fault: I wrote these chapters a few weeks apart and I forgot they'd be back to back chronologically. So for now please enjoy more of Mills and Locksley competing and having sexy times, but know that the LGBT storyline isn't going to be a one-and-done thing. It's too important to just be a "very special episode".

Regina, Robin and the rest of their skating friends soon learned that a Grand Prix in an Olympic season was a strange beast. Ticket sales skyrocketed and suddenly the stands were filled with diehard fans and casual viewers alike. Some of the skaters were leery of the extra attention but Regina thrived on it. “We have an opportunity every four years to bring new interest to our sport,” she reminded everyone. “We owe it to them and to ourselves to put on a good show.”

And what a show it was. At the first event in America, Marvella and Gardiner scraped out a narrow victory over Tremaine and Scarlet. It was quite shocking to see an American team almost get beaten out on home soil but the event was successful overall for the Americans with Aurelius and Jameson placing third and winning their first ever Grand Prix medal. Wendy Darling and her new partner Neal Cassidy came in fourth and the up-and-coming team from Spain rounded out the top five.

For the second event in Canada, Lucas and Booth came out on top. LeFay and Ambrose surprised the audience by slipping into second place ahead of Swan and Jones, who finished third. French and Hopper came in fourth, triumphing over the Russian team that placed fifth. 

Finally it was time for Mills and Locksley’s first Grand Prix of the season: Rostelecom Cup in Russia. They would be facing Marvella and Gardiner again, along with Aurelius and Jameson, an Italian team and a host of Russian teams. Once again Regina had Snow as her hotel roommate, a fact she was grateful for. “I’m not sure I could stomach rooming with Alice or Kathryn,” she admitted. “At least not this season. There’s too much at stake.”

“I don’t blame you. Especially not when you’re this close to getting ahead of Alice and Jefferson once and for all. But it will be different when we’re all at the Olympics, right? By then, everything will be decided: the national rankings, the team for the team event…” Snow looked alarmed. “I’d almost forgotten about the team event! Not that David and I have much of a chance to be chosen. Mills and Crane will get it for sure.”

Regina had forgotten about the team event too. The Olympic team event was a new addition in 2014 and it was just as perplexing at the time as it was now. “I don’t want to worry about that until the time comes,” she said, waving Snow off. “It’s just another level of stress no one needs.”

“But,” Snow protested, “we get to swap out two people or teams, right? So they’ll probably have our top man do the short and the free and then they’ll have Mills and Crane do the same. But they’ll probably let Ashley and Lily switch places for the ladies event and then they’ll swap the dance teams too…”

Snow’s chattering made Regina’s temples throb. “Enough about the damn team event!” she exclaimed. “It was confusing enough in 2014.”

“Tell me about it,” Snow huffed. I still can’t believe the Russians dragged Plushenko out of retirement.”

“I still say the Canadians were robbed,” Regina grumbled. “But Team Russia doesn’t look as strong this time. They’ve got great pairs and ladies but the men and the dancers aren’t as promising right now.”

“But our odds look better,” Snow pointed out. “Team USA could very well beat Team Russia. If Team Japan, Team France and Team China don’t get in the way…”

Regina let Snow natter on. For some reason, the other girl seemed to gain comfort from discussing the odds instead of gaining nerves. That much Regina could understand. She and Snow both knew how to observe the field and consider the players. They took different paths but at the end of the day, both girls had a shrewd sense of what to expect from the field.

Regina supressed a giggle when she arrived at the ladies’ dressing room before the short dance to find Alice Marvella decked out in the very pink fabric Mal had shown her several weeks ago. At least that colour works for her, Regina thought. Regina’s own costume was a deep shade of cerise and encrusted in sequins. “To stand out among the ladies in red,” Mal had said at the grand unveiling. Mal had been right: both Kathryn Aurelius and two of the Russian girls were in red. The girls exchanged pleasantries while they laced up their skates but no one was smiling. Regina tried not to let the results of the last few competitions get to her, but her head swam with numbers and rankings despite her best efforts. Robin drew to the farthest corner of the waiting area and pulled her into a tight hug. “I know that look,” he said. “We’re going to be fine. You’re not going to turn into a skating robot today.”

Easy for him to say, she thought. He wasn’t the one who had a brain that functioned like a computer. “I realized something while I was getting ready,” she said.

He gazed down at her expectantly. “What’s that?”

She groaned and backed away. “I hate this pattern dance. I hated it in 2011-2012 and I hate it now.”

Robin couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not my favourite pattern either. But… it’s the first element in the program. All we have to do is get through it and sell the rest.”

“Now you sound like me.” She leaned into him again, letting herself be enveloped in his familiar warmth and strength. “I’m going to need a lot of time to de-stress after this competition.”

His eyes twinkled. “That I can help with. But first…” he grinned and offered her his arm. “May I escort you to the rink, milady?”

His use of her old nickname brought her back to herself. “You haven’t called me milady in forever,” she said as she linked her arm through his.

“I thought you hated it. And… Tink told me it sounded… what was the word she used? Bro-y.” 

“Somehow it doesn’t when you say it,” she admitted. “Let’s get this over with.”

****

Regina wasn’t the only one who was sick of the rhumba pattern. The boys in the locker room were eager to ditch their costumes after the short dance was over. “I told our costume designer no plunging necklines,” Frederick said in a hollow voice. “She told me to wax.”

The other guys laughed. “That’s nothing – I’ve got sequin stripes on my pants!” Jefferson countered. “You’re lucky Robin – you managed to get away with just a pink collar while I got stuck with the pink shirt.”

“It’s cerise,” Robin corrected. “And it’s got more sequins than either of yours. I don’t know how the ballroom men pull this off. Or why the bloody ice dance rhumba is so different from the floor dance rhumba.”

“Do you think Killian Jones’s favourite dance hold is the kilian hold?” Frederick wondered, earning another round of laughter for his observation. 

“Probably,” Jefferson snickered. “I wish they’d given us tango this year. There hasn’t been a tango pattern since 2010.”

“Back when we were all juniors,” Robin remembered. Back when I competed against Regina and not with her, he added to himself. It felt like a lifetime ago. “Is anyone going to stay for the ladies competition?” 

Jefferson shook his head. “I’ve got to hit the gym.”

“And I’ve got a date,” Frederick chimed in. “See you guys later.”

“Later,” Robin echoed. The scores after the short dance had left Marvella and Gardiner only a half point ahead of Mills and Locksley. Regina was elated when Robin caught up with her, her overactive imagination already spinning with how to best get ahead of their rivals in the free dance. “If we really push through the second step sequence, they’ll have to raise our grade of execution,” she was saying. 

And push they did. They pushed themselves so hard, the under arm seam on Robin’s sleeve split when he threw his arms out in the final moments of the free dance the next day. No one noticed until they were in the kiss and cry. “Cover that up!” Ursula shrieked and threw his team jacket at him. “Mal’s going to kill you.”

I hope not, Robin thought when they got home and he was summoned to Mal’s design studio to have the costume fixed. Wardrobe mishap aside, Mills and Locksley had managed to best Marvella and Gardiner in the free. Alice and Jefferson’s combined total kept them ahead overall but they came up short on the program component score. We might actually beat them next time, Robin thought as he waited for the temperamental designer to call him in. Fans on Twitter are saying we were robbed. Others are calling it a virtual tie. We came so close…

His phone pinged a summons. Glad of the distraction, he unlocked the device to see a text from Regina:

Regina: hey handsome. Are you still breathing?

He chuckled and texted back:

Robin: she hasn’t called me in yet. Getting nervous.

Regina: you’ll be fine. I miss you ;)

Robin: I’ve only been gone half an hour.

Regina: but you promised to help me relax after we got home.

Robin: indeed I did. But there’s not much I can do from here.

Regina: I can think of a thing or two…

Oh, now she wants to play. He grinned down at the bright screen and tapped out another message:

Robin: is this the part where you tell me what you’re wearing?

Regina: nothing special. Just a slouchy shirt and my distressed jeans.

Robin: the ones that fit you so well in the back?

Regina: the very ones ;)  
Robin: those are excellent jeans, milady. 

Regina: why thank you

Robin swallowed nervously, unsure of what to type next. But Regina saved him the embarrassment:

Regina: I’m also wearing that lavender bra.

Back at home, Regina sighed and leaned back against her bed. Teasing him like this was too easy. And the last time she’d worn this bra, he’d said something about how perfect her breasts looked in it. Only he hadn’t said breasts. He’d said tits. So very British. Curse him and his sexy accent. She had to regain the upper hand. But when her phone dinged, Robin had already gotten one better on her:

Robin: the one with the matching knickers? 

Regina: so you remember. Last time you were in a hurry to take them off.

Robin: I remember everything ;)

Always so observant, she sighed. I hope Mal doesn’t keep him too long, I need him. And the wanting was leaving her revved up with no place to go. She wriggled around on the bed to find a more comfortable spot before typing another message:

Regina: I’m so lonely. Here all by myself, wearing this stuff, thinking about you…

Robin: I’d be there if I could. But for the time being… imagine I’m there with you. What would you want me to do first?

Wouldn’t you like to know, she thought. She wanted to say something about having his hands all over her but instead she typed:

Regina: you always kiss me first.

Robin: that goes without saying. You know how much I love the taste of your lovely lips.

Her cheeks flushed and she found herself licking those very same lips. Oh, how she missed his kisses and how they varied from soft and sweet to raw and passionate to anything else in between. The light scratch of his stubble and the playful lap of his tongue. Or maybe it was just his mouth and all the other things he could do with it that she missed. To have his lips and hands exploring her body… just thinking about it made her skin flush with warmth.

Regina: mm. And once you’ve kissed me… then what?

Robin: well… I’ll have to confirm whether or not you’re really wearing that bra. 

Cheeky, she thought. She put the phone down long enough to reach up underneath her shirt and divest herself of the garment. 

Regina: now I’m not.

Back at the studio, Robin nearly dropped his phone.

Robin: good grief, milady. Warn a bloke next time.

Regina: I thought I just did. And it’s cold in here without it.

Robin: sounds like you could use a pair of warm hands.

Regina: I could use a warm body too.

Robin felt a stirring below his belt and nearly cursed out loud. Not now – Mal’s going to call me in any second. But Regina was relentless:

Regina: these jeans are feeling a bit tight. I think I’ll slip them off too.

She put down her phone again and shimmied out of the jeans. She felt a bit ridiculous, lying alone on her bed in just her underwear and thin shirt but the door was securely closed and the girls were out of the house. She shifted her hips experimentally, already feeling that telltale warmth between her thighs. If that man doesn’t get back soon, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands, she decided. It’s been too long.

Robin: that’s not fair. Now I don’t know where I should put my hands first.

Regina: You’ve got two. I think you know where I need them.

Robin groaned, willing himself not to rise to the occasion. He had a response half typed when Mal’s assistant called his name and he jumped a mile at the sound of her voice. His phone pinged again as he walked guiltily down the hall to the workroom – was he red in the face? Would she be able to tell?

When Robin didn’t text back, Regina’s frustration made her throw the phone down in despair. Here she was, half naked and ready, and where was he? Probably being lectured by the angry costume designer. No matter. She could handle this on her own. But first she needed to wash her hands and put her damn bra back on. Then she would take matters into her own hands.

“Really Robin,” Mal was saying. “Splitting a seam. On one of my creations.” She shook her head, aghast that such a thing could have happened. “Did you biceps get bigger or what?” She narrowed her eyes at him, sizing him up.

I hope so, Robin thought. Please hurry up, he begged silently. I’ve got a very needy lady back home that needs taking care of. And I’m a bit needy myself.

“Well, I know it wasn’t my fine craftsmanship. I finished these seems myself.” Mal had the costume shirt in her hands. “Relax, handsome. It was probably just a flaw in the fabric. It’s regrettable, but it happens every now and then. I’ll have to take the sleeve off and replace it before your next event.” She took out a stich ripper and set to work.

Is that all? He wondered as Mal started to yank at the threads. All this fuss for one lousy sleeve. He thanked Mal and returned to his car, firing off a quick text to Regina before staring the engine:

Robin: all done here! Don’t start without me. Or do. I don’t mind.

By the time Regina got the text, she was on her back with a hand inside her panties, hips pumping, working herself into a frenzy. It was taking too long, damn it! She used to be able to do this and get off without much work, but today her fingers were proving to be a poor substitute for his. It’s those damn guitar callouses of his, she thought, teetering desperately on the edge of relief. They feel so much better…

The car door slammed outside just as she was finally coasting close to the peak. She let out a groan – almost a whimper – and stilled. Oh no. He was home. Now what?

The bedroom door swung open just as she was sitting up. “Oh bullocks,” he sighed, leaning against the doorframe, looking extremely smug. “You did start without me.”

“Well I couldn’t wait forever,” she complained, fighting to regain her composure. Not that it was easy to be composed when you were sitting on your bed without any pants on with your shirt hanging off one shoulder. “And you didn’t give me much to work with,” she added reproachfully. “You left me hanging right when I needed you most.”

Robin looked pained. They hadn’t had sex since before leaving for Rostelecom: a quick one while Elsa and Tink were watching a movie with a silent orgasm at the end. Too long. And too quiet. He wanted to hear her this time. But right now she was giving him the evil eye. “Mal started ripping that seam open in front of me,” he tried to explain, trailing off with a confused shrug of his shoulders.

Regina pouted. “You’re not scared of her, are you? Because right now you have more reason to be afraid of me.” She held out a hand, inviting him to join her on the bed. He took the bait – predictable as ever – and she him yanked down beside her before he could say another word. “I hate waiting,” she said through gritted teeth as her hands tugged at the buttons of his shirt. “You know how impatient I can be.”

Do I ever, he thought, content to watch her pull at his clothes. Her long-sleeved tee was paper thin and the outline of her bra was right at his eye level. Lace trim. Such a sweet, sexy little detail. “You put it back on?” He traced a finger across the top of the cup, making her shiver. 

She swatted his hand away and continued to wrestle his shirt off. “I told you: it was cold in here.”

She’s not folding the clothes today – she must be in quite a state. “Then allow me to warm you up,” he suggested, stilling her groping hands and pulling her into his arms. “I’m all yours, milady. Whatever you need, I shall provide.”

That was all the encouragement Regina needed. Something was different today – a desperate, raw need for him that she hadn’t been able to satisfy on her own. The kind of deep want that could only be sated by straddling him and taking them both for the ride of their lives. Yes, that was what she needed, what they both needed. None of that slow, quiet stuff. She needed something harder. And from the way he was running his hands over her body, pausing here and there to grope and squeeze, he needed the same thing. But first she needed to get rid of the rest of their clothes. 

“Easy there,” Robin chuckled after she gave his trousers an almighty yank. “You’re quite hot to trot today.”

She froze, suddenly unsure. “Am I?”

“Yeah.” He grinned up at her as his hands coasted up and down her back. “I like it.”

Relief washed over her. He wants it too. And he did say he wanted to hear me. Be careful what you wish for. “You’re going to like it a lot more in a minute.” She pulled her top off and guided his hands up to cup her breasts. “I need you here,” she breathed, closing her hands over his to squeeze. “And here.” She rolled her hips, rubbing sensually against him. “And I need you now.” She pulled her panties down, bearing herself to him. “May I?” she inquired, gesturing to his own undergarments.

“Please do,” he encouraged. As much as he loved being slow and gentle with her, today was one of those times when she needed something more passionate to get the job done. Robin didn’t much care, as long as the experience was pleasurable for both of them. He tested her with his fingers, relishing the moan that escaped her parted lips. 

“Robin,” Regina whined as he rubbed at her. “I’m so wet. I need you inside…”

His hand fell away. “Ready for me now?” he grinned up at her, beckoning her closer. He guided her hips down toward him, bringing their bodies together once again. “Tell me,” he whispered, sitting up and nuzzling at her ear, “what do you want, my lovely? Nice and slow? Or harder?” 

She kissed him deeply, all tongue and heat. “Harder,” she told him. “I need… something harder…” 

Her words spurred him on. It was so sexy listening to her talk. Maybe if he could just keep her talking… “how’s that, babe?” He started moving at a faster clip, looking up to gauge her reaction. “Is that what you want?” 

“Mmm,” she whimpered, hips jerking to meet his, her grip tightening around his shoulders. “Just like that. I like it like that.” 

“Tell me more,” he begged as he thrust up into her. “Tell me what you like.”

“I like… I want… I want you to take me.” She slipped her bra off and pressed her bare chest up against his, revelling in the feeling of skin against skin. “Take me like you mean it.” The words spilled out, her bluntness shocking them both. She sucked in a nervous breath and stilled, gauging his reaction. He was staring again, eyes clouded over with lust. Then he was touching her again, moving within her again, making her quiver again. “That’s it,” she gasped, rocking against him. “What do you need?”

He grinned. “Keep doing that, love. You’re so sexy.”

Finally free from having to tiptoe around their housemates, Regina let herself go completely, drawing out every moan and cry to twice the normal volume. She arched her back, hips rolling, thighs tightening around him as she rode. He’d never had her in such a state and Robin reveled in the sound of her voice, spurring himself to go faster and deeper to meet her demands. Regina was lost to it. She was a wild, passionate thing, and oh, now she was moaning his name and digging her nails into his shoulders and…

“Yes!” she keened, her mouth dropping wide open in ecstasy just as he thrust harder into her, making her scream. And not a delicate, ladylike scream but a guttural cry of passion that echoed in his ears. “More!” 

More? He thought, dazedly. More. He took hold of her bucking hips, sliding his hands underneath to grope at her bare bottom and she cried out again. She liked it. He left one hand there and pushed the other one back between her legs to rub at her again. She called out his name again, followed by an expletive she’d never dared say during sex before. 

“Oh… oh, fuck!” she gasped, nails digging into his shoulder. “Oh yes! Yes! YES!” She rode out the peak of her pleasure with a few final wild gyrations before going still. Robin finished just after and fell back, utterly spent. The reverb of her final cry sounded in his ears for ages afterward, even after she’d gotten up to shower, leaving him alone and spent. He’d never drawn a sound like that out of her before. Out of anyone. Forget that: he’d never known she could even make a sound like that. All the months of careful quiet sex and now this… the passion, the noises, their bodies coming together…

“Are you going to join me or what?” she called from the shower. Oh right. He stumbled after her, still dazed from the efforts of their love-making. Not love-making. That wasn’t the right word for what they’d just done. Love making was what they’d done the first few times when they were still getting to know each other. But this…

“That was the best yet,” she sighed sensually as she pulled him under the spray of the hot water. “I can still feel it inside.”

“Me too,” he murmured. Was he trembling? Or was she? He tried to anchor his hands at her waist again, only for her to make another one of those primal noises. “That’s so sexy,” he groaned, letting his palms trail down her bare backside again. “How is it,” he wondered, “that you can bear to hold all that inside?”

“It’s been agony,” she whined, shaking her head. She tilted her eyes up to look at him. “Having to be quiet and careful all these months… I’ve never done anything like what we just did. Oh… was I a bit rough? Near the end I thought you looked pained…”

“It was amazing,” he assured her. “I was wincing because you scratched me.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips to kiss the tips of her fingers. 

“Oh.” Was she blushing or was it just the heat of the shower? He sucked one of her fingers into his mouth and she groaned again. “It wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Not at all,” he insisted. “It was just enough.” He turned her hand to the side and kissed her wrist. So gentle now, after the wildness of before. “I know you like passion,” he added. “Perhaps even a stronger hand every now and then?”

“Mm.” She nodded in agreement. “As long as it’s not too rough. I think… what we just did is as hard as I’m going to like it.”

“Good to know.” He dropped her hand and wrapped his arms around her waist again. “It was about as hard as I’m willing to go too. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She trembled at the very thought. She liked a firmer hand, she knew that now. And it had taken her this long to ask for it. Sometimes he’d been too gentle with her and she’d hesitated to ask for more. But now that she knew he was willing, it felt as if a wall she hadn’t even knew existed had fallen away. “I think we just figured out the difference between regular sex and… more,” she said, rolling her neck to stretch her muscles. “What we just did… that was more.”

“It was,” he agreed. “And which do you prefer?”

She shrugged. “It depends. Some days you want one and not the other.”

“But you’ll always let me know which?”

She kissed him, sweetly this time. “Always. Today for example… I needed you to take me.”

His grin deepened. “And you did it quite gloriously, milady. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing you in such a state. You’re truly wondrous to behold, every perfect inch of you.”

She pushed up against him. “Even my so-called perfect tits?”

Robin took the bait, his gaze dropping to her chest. “Especially your perfect tits. I only regret I didn’t spend more time there.”

“Next time.” She let her hands trail down his chest, drinking in every detail. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You always know just what I need.”

“That’s my job – attending to my partner’s every need.” Her hands dipped a bit lower and he cleared his throat. “Ahem. Is there anything else you need today, my love?”

She considered it. Her blood was still pumping and her entire body was still buzzing with warmth but… “I think I’m good,” she said. “But… tomorrow is another day.”

“Hmm.” He pulled her closer, relishing the feeling of her bare wet skin against his. “Just say the word, milady. As long as you promise to tell me the next time you’d like me to take you like that.”

“Don’t worry. When I want to you to take me hard like that again, you’ll be the first to know.”


	19. Another Confession

Regina wasn’t expecting to hear about the list again.

After Sidney’s blog was shut down, everyone thought they’d heard the last of it. Many fans were speculating that the list had never existed in the first place and that it had all been a publicity stunt to get more web traffic. All Regina knew for certain was that the troublesome blogger had been forced to hand over a flash drive with all his research on it and that the drive had been destroyed by Mr. Gold’s IT people. Sidney had even been forced to make a public apology. So when Ruby Lucas of all people took Regina aside before the short dance at Cup of China, Regina expected the usual competitive banter. 

But Ruby had something else on her mind. “I hear you’re the one to thank for the disappearance of the list,” she said in a low voice that the other girls in the dressing room wouldn’t overhear. 

“If there ever was one. I didn’t see it.” Regina leaned over to tighten the laces on her skates. She never liked to chat much before a competition. Talking was always easier afterward once everyone felt like they could be friends again. 

But Ruby persisted, sliding in next to her on the bench. “I doubt you’d go to bat like that if it was just a fictional list. There had to be a reason.”

Regina lifted her head and stared her competitor down. Go away, she thought, willing the other girl to back off. I won’t let you trick me into telling what I know. “Whatever was on that list was no one’s business to tell. Least of all Sidney’s.” She gave her laces one final stifling yank and tied the knot. Why is she still here? I must not be glaring hard enough. 

Ruby’s usually open expression faltered under Regina’s scrutiny. “You misunderstand me,” she said, her voice dropping back to a whisper. “At first I wondered how you could possibly have known, but then I realized… either you were worried about being on that list yourself, or you were protecting someone. Whoever it is… they’re very lucky to have you as a friend. And the rest of us… we’re just lucky someone had enough guts to care.”

Regina gaped at her. “Wait… are you saying…?”

There was something droll about seeing a girl named Ruby turn red. Did her mother not consider that when she named her baby? Regina wondered. She almost laughed. But laughter didn’t seem appropriate at a time like this so she pushed back the impulse. “What the hell,” Regina muttered, pointedly looking away to give Ruby a chance to compose herself. “I’m beginning to wonder who wasn’t on the damn list.”

Ruby giggled. Okay, maybe it was okay to laugh now. Regina managed a hesitant smile. “When I first saw the post, I thought it was about me,” Ruby said. “My ex-girlfriend thought it was about her. My partner thought it was about him. And you thought it was about someone else.” She shook her head, mind reeling from connecting all the dots. “Talk about a frozen closet. But you… you saved all of us from being exposed before we wanted to be. You’re, like, our hero. Seriously. I’d hug you but you don’t seem like a hugger.”

Regina laughed properly this time. “That’s true, I’m not. But… you’re right. I was protecting someone. And… technically I was protecting myself too. Looks like there’s more of us than I thought.”

Ruby’s eyes lit up. “Oh! So you’re… I’m going to go out on a limb and guess… the B in LGBT?”

Regina nodded.

Ruby was delighted. “Oh my gosh! We have so much in common! Can we talk later, maybe? Too much pre-competitive chatting gets to me sometimes.”

Regina was hasty to agree. “It gets to me too,” she admitted. And it was almost time to skate anyway. Ruby flashed Regina one final smile of reassurance before they left the room and headed down to the ice. The conversation had happened so quickly Regina barely had time to register it before her hand was in Robin’s and they were stepping out onto the ice surface for their warmup. But Robin noticed the change in her right away. 

“You seem happy,” he noted as they skirted around the corner closest to the judges’ panel. “Are you ready to slay another competition?”

“I was born ready,” she said, fire blazing in her eyes. And she did feel ready. She felt it tingling in her nerves – the start of the adrenaline rush. By now she’d learned to control it, to stoke the flames and stay on simmer until it was time to perform. LeFay and Ambrose skated before them, putting up a season’s best score. But Regina was in the zone. From the first note of the music, everything else fell away and the spirit of the Latin dance took over. Her every move was fire: from the tips of her toes, the swivel of her hips, the lines of her arms and legs and the roll of her shoulders. I was born to do this, she thought as they traced through the pattern dance and into the twizzles. When Robin picked her up for the lift she could see the fire in his eyes too. The program was designed to showcase Regina’s ease with the Latin style but she couldn’t do that without Robin’s solid, steady leadership. 

“You’re amazing,” he said, leaning in close to her ear as they took their bows at the end. “That was miles better than in Russia.”

Regina shrugged and bowed, blowing a kiss to the audience. “What can I say? I was in the zone.”

“I’ll say. I could barely keep up.” She grinned and led her by the hand back to the kiss n cry. “Season’s best for sure.”

Robin was correct and then some: Mills and Locksley scored just over 75, a season’s best and a personal best. “Bloody hell,” Robin murmured once they were away from the microphones. “Lucas and Booth’s personal best in the short is only a point more than what we just got.”

“I know.” Regina had already done the math. If Lucas and Booth made even a tiny mistake… but she doubted they would. Not today. There was something about coming to terms with yourself that made everything seem possible. It was the only reason she’d skated the way she’d just skated. “I have a feeling they’re going to be on today,” she predicted. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Robin gave her a suspicious sidelong glance, clearly intrigued. “What makes you say that?”

Regina shrugged him off, flashing that special smile she reserved only for him. “Let’s just say Ruby and I have a lot in common.”

Robin cocked his head, utterly perplexed. Sometimes it was best not to question where his partner got her notions from. It kept the mystery alive. And when her prediction came true a few minutes later when Lucas and Booth scored 76, her smug bravado returned. “I never thought I’d see you happy to be in second place,” Robin remarked before the post-short dance press conference. “Care to fill me in?”

“Tomorrow,” Regina promised. “After the free dance.” She had a feeling Ruby wouldn’t want to talk until then anyway. “Don’t worry,” she added, noting the look of bewilderment on Robin’s face. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just girl stuff.”

“Girl stuff,” he echoed. Not exactly his area of expertise. 

Though it was one of Regina’s areas of expertise, especially when it came to matters of costumes. After the split seam incident of their first Grand Prix, Mal had taken both costumes back to her shop for a proper inspection. Regina hated to be parted from hers. “It’s your best yet,” she assured Mal, even as her fingers clenched around the padded hanger. “It makes me feel like a warrior princess.”

“And you’ll feel like a warrior queen once I’ve added a few more Swarovski crystals,” Mal insisted, nearly wrenching the costume out of Regina’s hands. “Eyes on the prize, darling. We’ve got you covered.”

Having her free dance costume in her hands again, Regina couldn’t help but agree. It was already a showstopper – duotone purple and fuchsia with black and silver accents – but the extra crystals gave it an added degree of flair. Her dramatic eye makeup and slicked back hair helped solidify the look. “Damn,” Ruby said appreciatively when she saw the costume. “You look amazing.”

Ruby also looked quite becoming in a flowy deep blue dress and elegant updo, Regina noted. “You look good too. And you,” she added to Nimue LeFay, who was in pale turquoise. Clearly everyone was bringing their best fashion game to the Olympic season as well as their best programs. LeFay and Ambrose had an ambitious program set to the music of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, and they pulled it off beautifully. They may not be contenders this quadrennial, but they’re so young. They’ll be in contention in the years to come, Regina thought as she spied on their performance from backstage. Who knows? If Robin and I stick it out for another Olympic cycle after this, we could be competing against them a lot more often. She also enjoyed the free dance of Villanueva and Cordero, the new team from Spain. “They’re a little rough around the edges, but they’ve got something,” she remarked to Robin as the young team took their final bows. “They almost remind me of us when we first got together.”

“I was going to say the same thing.” Robin took a deep breath and offered her his arm. “Are you ready, milady?”

She grinned. “Hell yes. Let’s make Lucas and Booth work for it.”

The free dance started with Regina facing away from Robin, in order to sell the “enemies to allies” story they were pushing. In accordance to their commitment to doing the unconventional, they opened the program with a stationary lift – a type of lift where the man rotates on the spot while lifting their partner. Again, Regina faced away from Robin in the lift and she purposefully didn’t look at him when they moved into the first step sequence. Gradually their characters learned to trust each other. Even though Regina was not supposed to look at Robin for the first minute and a half of the program, Robin was always keeping a wary eye on her. The first piece of music, “Seven Devils”, had a gradual build and a constant beat, culminating in the placement of the mirror twizzles at the bridge. It was at this point, around the two minute mark, that their characters decided to build an alliance and work together, which led to the change in music to “Queen of Peace”. 

More elements: curve lift, step sequence, rotational lift. Regina threw her entire body into the contemporary dance inspired movements and poses, acting out every little emotional nuance and musical shift. The program built in intensity until it finally concluding with both partners face to face with their arms raised in triumph. 

Regina wobbled on the spot when her blades came to a stop but she willed herself to stay upright. She risked a quick peek at the ice surface and saw she’d skated into a rut left by an earlier competitor. Thank God she hadn’t fallen. Could you get a fall deduction after the music stopped? She didn’t want to find out. Knowing my luck, I’ll be the first, she fretted.

After bowing and retiring to the Kiss n Cry, Regina was drained. She didn’t want to admit that her tiny misstep had thrown her off. It wasn’t until Robin had his arm around her again that she snapped out of it. “Did I miss the score?” She looked down at the monitor and breathed a sigh of relief. How wonderful. Now I’m going to look glazed and confused all over the livestream. Robin made short work of her nerves, rubbing soothing circles against her back, inviting her to move closer. Just as she was leaning into him the scores came up: a full two points higher than their first grand prix. “Thank God,” she murmured. “That was work.”  
“The good kind of work?” Robin teased after they were alone in the hallway. His eyes danced knowingly.

“The very good kind.” This was how she liked to feel after a competition: to see all their hard work come to fruition. Regina knew in her heart that they still wouldn’t beat Lucas and Booth today, but she expected the final score to be closer than it ever had been. In the end, Lucas and Booth earned two points more for their free dance to the La La Land soundtrack, keeping them in the lead overall in the combined total score. But the score gap between the teams was closer than it had been a year ago. That alone was victory enough for Mills and Locksley.

When Regina finally had a chance to speak to Ruby alone, she learned some interesting information about her competitor’s dating life. “I met your friend Mulan when we were both in Quebec for a training seminar this summer,” Ruby confessed in a lower whisper to Regina after the other girls had left the locker room. “We’ve been texting ever since.”

“Oh wow.” Regina didn’t know what to say. She knew Mulan had split up with her last girlfriend in the spring, but the physiotherapist hadn’t given any indication that she was seeing someone new. “I didn’t know.”  
“We’re keeping it on the DL,” Ruby explained, “since Mulan is kind of out and I’m kind of not. You know how it is.”

Regina did. Suddenly Elsa and Tink’s rough patch made sense: Tink was out among her large circle of skating friends, but Elsa was only out to her sister, her girlfriend and her housemates. Anna’s skating partner didn’t even know. “It’s not fair is it,” she said with a grimace. “Straight people don’t have to come out. They’re the default. But for the rest of us… especially in the skating world…”

“The institution is still old-fashioned,” Ruby summed up. “It sucks, but it is what it is. Until we have some real pioneers to lead us into a new era, nothing is ever going to change.”

“And that’s exactly the problem. No one wants to be the first one to put themselves out there. Especially not if their host country wants them to stick to the status quo.” Regina shrugged. 

Ruby gaped at her. “Did someone actually say that?”

Regina made a non-committal gesture. “Mr. Gold may have implied it.”

Ruby wrinkled her nose. “Ew. That old creep?”

“The very same.”

Ruby’s expression shifted into something more serious. “You don’t think he’d… what, blacklist you, or something? If you came out?”

Regina honestly didn’t know anymore. “Hard to say”

Ruby tilted her head, trying to gather her thoughts. “He’d have a much harder time blacklisting you if you and Robin became the new National Champions.”

Regina scoffed. “To do that, we’d have to beat Marvella and Gardiner.”

Ruby shrugged. “So beat Marvella and Gardiner. You totally could. You could!” she insisted upon seeing the look of disbelief on Regina’s face. “You guys have been rising steadily ever since you debuted. And I always thought you were better than Jefferson anyway.”

“I can’t tell if you really mean that or if you’re just saying that to psych me out.” Regina fixed Ruby with her signature stare. “You’re still the competition, after all.”

“Oh please.” Ruby flipped her hair over her shoulder and picked up her bag. “Jefferson always has the same facial expression when he skates. He acts like he’s in the military or something. Always serious. Stealthy. Slightly unhinged. Like the Winter Soldier.”

Regina couldn’t help but laugh at that as she gathered up her belongings. “You really have been scoping out the competition.”

“I have to. They’ve been breathing down our necks for the last three seasons. And the fans always love a Canadian-USA rivalry. It’s like Virtue and Moir versus Davis and White all over again.”

“Don’t remind me. I escaped that fan war by throwing my full support behind the French team.” 

The girls left the change room together, still chatting as they sauntered down the empty corridor. “I meant what I said,” Ruby said when they reached the shuttle bus. “You were so close to Marvella and Gardiner at Worlds. I know you’ve thought about it too. You’re a competitor like me. I know the look.” She gestured to her eyes and when Regina looked at her again, she saw it: the same competitive fire that fueled her also fueled Ruby.

“True.” Regina looked up to see Robin waiting for her on the bus. “We competitive bi girls have to stick together.”

Ruby grinned. “You’re damn right. And who knows. Maybe we’ll both be on the podium at the Olympics.”

Maybe, Regina thought to herself. We just have to get past Alice and Jefferson first.

“So what did Ruby want to talk about?” Robin asked after Regina was relaxing in the seat next to his. 

“I told you: girl stuff.” The bus pulled away and headed down the road. Regina didn’t think Ruby would appreciate having her secret told so she shifted the subject. “She’s pretty cool, actually. Maybe we should invite her to the New Years’ Eve party this year.”

Robin couldn’t pretend to know everything that went on in his partner’s mind. But he did love to watch her think. To see her eyes light up with promise every time there was a new problem to solve. To know her beautiful brain was thinking away, always three steps ahead. To know that he would never catch up, but to keep racing along behind her anyway. “The more the merrier,” he said. “I love that the New Year’s Eve party is something we can do together with the girls.”

“It wouldn’t be much of a party without your famous hors d’oeuvres,” she pointed out. “Remember how many Mal ate last year?”

“Half the bloody tray,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Are we inviting Mulan this year?”

If we invite Ruby, we won’t need to, Regina thought. But again, Robin didn’t know that. “Of course. We always invite Mulan.”

“I know. I just wonder if she’ll need a plus one this year after breaking up with Bonnie.”

“Don’t worry. Something tells me that won’t be a problem.”

Robin gave her a fond look. “You know something I don’t know.”

Regina feigned innocence. “Maybe. But if I did… it’s not my story to tell.”

Robin nodded knowingly. “I know. That’s why I love you so much. You want what’s best for all of us.”

“Ugh.” Regina slouched in her seat. “You make me sound like a mother hen.”

“Well… you are what the Americans call a… hot chick?” The words sounded foreign in his mouth, but she laughed anyway. “That was bloody awful.”

“No more awful than calling girls birds,” Regina pointed out. “I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard that in England.”

“I think we need to put a moratorium on all bird-related metaphors,” Robin said after a moment of reflection. “This is not going I way I wanted it to.”

“Oh no.” Regina pretended to look scandalized. “Don’t tell me you’re finally run out of cute flirtatious things to say.”

Robin pouted. “I’m too worn out to be clever tonight.”

“Me too,” she admitted. “I hope you’re not too tired to cuddle, though.”

“Milady,” he said reverently, reverting to her old nickname, “I’ll never be too tired for that.”


	20. GPF

Mills and Locksley qualified for the Grand Prix Final for the second year in a row. Once again, they would be competing against four of the usual suspects: Lucas and Booth, Marvella and Gardiner, Troyes and DuLac, and Tremaine and Scarlet. The biggest surprise was the final team that qualified: LeFay and Ambrose. Their silver and bronze medal victories put the second-ranked Canadians into a tie-breaker with Swan and Jones for the final spot. In such a situation, the team with the highest combined score earned the honour of skating at the Final.

Swan and Jones must be pissed, Regina thought as she packed for the trip. A year ago, they would have had no problem making the Final. And now… now they’re getting usurped by LeFay and Ambrose of all people.

But she was also keenly aware that one-upmanship was the name of the game. Mills and Locksley’s place in the standings was by no means secure and LeFay and Ambrose had just proven that a lower ranked team could move up. But it did feel strange. Competing against Swan and Jones was something Mills and Locksley had gotten used to. It was comforting in a way to know that they would always be there. It made things more predictable.

Get a hold of yourself, Regina thought. This is an Olympic season. Nothing is going to be predictable ever again.

So she packed: costumes, skates, workout gear, streetwear, a dress for the banquet. This year’s Grand Prix Final was in Japan, which was exciting since they hadn’t competed in Japan for a long time. Elsa was less enthused, knowing her fiercest rival Kira Yukimura would have the home field advantage. And there wasn’t just Kira to worry about: she would also have to fend off the Canadian champion Jasmine Hart.

“I don’t envy her,” Tink said with a shudder as she helped wheel suitcases to the car. “Sometimes I’m glad I’m only a middle of the pack competitor.” 

She won’t be in the middle of the pack for much longer if she keeps skating like she’s been skating this year, Regina thought to herself. Tink had finished third at both her Grand Prixes, earning for herself the dubious honour of being first alternate for the Final. She had not been called upon to replace anyone this year, but next year… Tink can talk all she wants about being in the middle of the pack, but if some of the big guns retire after the Olympics, she could do very well for herself at Worlds next year, Regina predicted. She didn’t want to think about how she and Robin would do at Worlds. It was still too far away to worry about.

Elsa was quiet on the plane, preferring to nap most of the way. Regina read a book and Robin watched movies. They ate a barely palatable airplane meal and chatted with Mills and Crane, who were seated nearby. The flight itself was fine, but once their feet were on solid ground again, the nerves kicked in. Regina clenched the armrests of her seat on the bus all the way to the hotel. Robin kissed her white knuckles and said, “Courage, milady. We’ll be fine.”

Easy for him to say. Even though she’d caught a few hours of sleep on the plane, Regina crashed the minute she reached her hotel room. She came to a few hours later when her roommate Abbie Mills shook her awake. “Perk up, Other Mills. You can sleep when you’re dead.” Abbie deposited a cup of coffee on the nightstand. “That’s for you.”

“Thanks,” Regina mumbled, sitting up to take a groggy first sip. 

“I’m not gonna tell you to stop stressing,” Abbie continued, “because I don’t think that would be helpful. We’re all stressed. But it’s easier to deal with it when you have friends to talk to.”

“True.” Regina took another sip. What time was it, anyway? She glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table and gasped. “Oh no. Please tell me I didn’t miss practice.”

Abbie shook her head. “It’s not until tomorrow. Calm down, your majesty. You weren’t sleeping that long.”

Regina laughed in spite of herself. Abbie’s right, I need to relax. “So, how have you been? I haven’t seen you since Champs Camp.”

Abbie shrugged and plopped down on her bed. “I broke a finger back in October. Thank God it wasn’t on my lifting hand.” She showed Regina her slightly crooked left index finger. “I busted it saving a quad throw.”

So that’s why they haven’t been attempting their quad throw lately, Regina realized. “Ouch. That must have been painful.”

“Nothing compared to a broken angle, but… yeah. Pretty unpleasant.” Abbie shrugged again. “How ‘bout you, how are you holding up?”

“Still in one piece,” Regina reported. “I did cut my hand on a twizzle during our summer training though.”

Abbie made a face. “No offence, but I’m glad twizzles are only a major thing in dance. I can’t imagine having to spin both ways.”

“They really are counterproductive,” Regina chimed in. “The whole point of spinning is to travel as little as possible and yet with twizzles…”

“The whole point is to rotate while travelling,” Abbie finished for her. “Weird.”

“Ice dance in general is weird,” Regina said. “But I suppose every discipline has its weirdness. The whole twist lift thing you pairs skaters do? Weird as hell. I don’t get it.”

“And dangerous,” Abbie added. “There was this Canadian guy whose partner broke his nose when she elbowed him coming down from a twist.” She shuddered. “Blood everywhere. And I swear, he still winces every time they do that element.”

“Or that A-spin that the guys do,” Regina went on. “The fans call it the “see my butt” spin.”

“At least they have nice butts,” Abbie pointed out, making them both laugh. “And we haven’t even gotten into the weirdness of the ladies and their cutesy outfits.”

“I know.” Regina sighed. “Ice dance is the last discipline where female skaters aren’t allowed to wear pants or full bodysuits. You singles and pairs girls can, but hardly any of you ever do. It’s so sexist.” She shook her head. “This conversation took a hell of a turn.”

“It’s true though,” Abbie said. “This is the first season I’ve taken advantage of the catsuit rule.”

“And you look amazing,” Regina assured her. “It’s athletic and aesthetically pleasing.”

Abbie agreed. “Sure beats skating around in a tiny skirt that barely covers your ass. At least you dancers can have longer skirts without them getting in the way.”

“No jumps – no need to worry about aerodynamics.” 

The girls both laughed again. “You’re pretty cool, Other Mills. I’m glad we don’t have to compete against each other, or I’d probably hate you,” Abbie admitted.

“Good thing I’m too tall for pairs then, or I’d have to kick your ass for that.”

The girls were still laughing when a knock on the door brought them both back to Earth. “That’s probably Crane.” Abbie got up to answer it.

“You call your partner by his last name?”

Abbie shot a look over her shoulder. “His name is Ichabod. You’d call your partner by his last name too if his name was Ichabod.”

This guy’s parents had a cruel sense of humour, Regina thought as Ichabod Crane himself stuck his head in the door. “Ah, Miss Mills. Pleasure to see you again. Shall we, Abbie?”

“We shall.” Abbie turned back to Regina. “Crane’s taking me out for sushi. Want to come?”

Regina’s stomach gurgled but she shook her head. “No thanks. Wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“But you need to eat,” Abbie insisted. “Call Locksley and we can make it a double date.”

****

Sushi with Robin, Abbie and Crane was just what Regina needed to get her mind of the stress of the competition. Regina regaled Mills and Crane with the story of Robin’s wasabi incident while Robin himself noshed on teriyaki chicken and pretended to be embarrassed. After an hour of swapping stories, Regina excused herself to the ladies’ room to reapply her lipstick. Why am I doing this again? She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, lipstick tube poised mid-swipe. I’m just going back to the hotel. But she hated to leave her lipstick in a state of disarray, so she did it anyway. It was a reflex at this point. And besides, a deep plummy red suited her complexion. She’d already bought the stuff, it would go to waste if she didn’t use it. That was what she told herself every time she had doubts about her beauty regimen. 

Just as she was pressing her lips together to blot, another girl came bounding into the lavatory to wash her hands. “Bloody soy sauce!” the newcomer exclaimed as she lathered up with soap and stuck her hands under the faucet. “I always get it everywhere.”

Regina chuckled politely and deposited the lipstick tube in her purse. She glanced at the sink next to her and realised that she recognized the girl: it was Jasmine Hart, the Canadian women’s champion. Jasmine seemed to recognize her too, for when Regina caught her eye in the mirror, she froze. “Oh! You’re her. I mean, you’re the queen. I mean Regina! Not the Ice Queen. Regina. Mills. Regina Mills.” Jasmine turned off the tap and clapped her hands together. “I’m so sorry, I’m just a huge fan!”

Someone’s excitable, Regina observed, unable to look away from the stars in the other girl’s eyes as she danced on the spot. “And you’re Jasmine Hart. You were amazing at Worlds last season.”

Jasmine’s eyes went wide. “You really think so? That’s a huge compliment coming from you.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” Regina said, and she meant it. There was something about encountering a fan in the wild that always gave her a little pick-me-up, especially when that fan was a fellow skater who actually knew what they were talking about. “Break a leg in the short program.”

“You too!” Jasmine exclaimed. “I’m debuting a new free program the weekend, so I’m a little nervous.”

“Oh?” Regina hadn’t heard about that.

“Yeah! I started off the season with Carmen, but it wasn’t working for me.”

I get that, Regina thought. “Carmen isn’t for everyone.”

“It was great when you skated to it, though! I almost wish you’d skated to it with Robin instead of your first partner though. You guys are my favourites,” she went on. “After Lucas and Booth, I mean.” Her smile faltered, as if worried she’d offended. How Canadian of her.

“Well, of course. We have to support our countrymen and women.” Regina gave her a knowing look and a wink before departing, leaving Jasmine to fangirl in peace. 

But the more Regina let her mind wander, the more she found herself thinking about how the skating landscape was going to change in the coming months. The end of an Olympic cycle would mean the end of an era for many of her friends and competitors. Mills and Locksley, being in their mid-twenties now, could still carry on but for many of their singles skating friends, the Olympics would be the end of the line: that ultimate pinnacle of achievement they would never reach again. She didn’t want to think about it, but the more she tried not to, the more her stray thoughts and worries kept rolling around in her brain, needling her when she tried to sleep, poking at her during practices and practically screaming at her before they were due to compete their short dance. Robin took one look at her and saw her for what she truly was: a bundle of nerves.

“Regina.” Always with him saying her name as if everything rested upon it. “Look at me.”

For a second she thought she might cry. No. Not here, not now. Not while the others are watching. “I’ve got you,” he said, “and we’ve got this.”

She almost did cry then, from relief. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can’t stop thinking.”

He pulled her in close, letting her head rest against his chest. “I know. I can see the wheels in your head spinning. You just have to block it out and let it go.” She shivered. “Breathe with me, Regina. You’re going to be fine.”

And she was. She synced her breathing with his and let the familiar calm of his presence anchor her, as if they were tethered together by some invisible thread. Somewhere over her shoulder Regina was aware of Ursula and John hovering and worrying, but when Regina pulled away from Robin, her game face was back. “Let’s do this,” she said. “I’m ready now.”

When Regina entered the peak of her competitive zone, she became someone else and Robin was just along for the ride. He followed in her wake, content to lead her through the changes in dance hold while she led him through the program transitions and connecting steps. He could never compete with her here, not even with all those hours of dance classes. Regina shone in the Latin dances like no other skater in the field. “I know it’s a stereotype, but what can I say: Latin dance is in my blood,” she said at the press conference. “And my dad sent me to lessons when I was a kid. He wanted to make sure I stayed in touch with my heritage. But it can still be taught – just look and my partner.” She gave Robin a look so loaded with innuendo he blushed bright red. “We love any style of dance that lets us show off our natural chemistry together.”

But she crashed again when they got back to the hotel, being too tired to stay for the rest of the short programs. Robin let her rest, cradling her in his arms as she drifted in and out until she finally snapped out of it and turned in the TV. “How much did we miss?” she fretted, stabbing buttons on the remote until the skating came on.

“Just the re-airing of the dance and the first group of ladies,” Robin assured her.

“We missed Ashley then.” Regina slumped back against her pillow. “I feel like hot garbage.”

“Which is why I took the liberty of leaving a bottle of water for you on the nightstand.” Robin grinned and passed it to her. “But you should have something to eat, too.”

“Let’s start with water.” Regina uncapped her bottle and took a long draft. Cool relief washed over her and her attention snapped back to the television screen. “Oh, look! Ashley’s leading after the first group!”

Robin shook his head and gently pried the remote from her hand. “Do you want to talk about what was bothering you before?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, but he wasn’t buying it. He was frowning at her. Why was he frowning? Gosh, even his frown is cute. No, Regina. Focus. “I was just thinking,” she said again, even though it sounded hollow. “Thinking about the Olympics. Thinking about… what comes next.”

Robin grinned, as if to say, is that all. “Hopefully another quadrennial of competing, if our bodies hold up.” He observed her, worn down as she was, twisting the water bottle around in her hands. “I mean, if that’s what you want. I know how much you love to compete, but…”

“I do,” she agreed. “I just… I’m so stressed out right now and I can’t see the finish line. The Olympics are only two and a half months away, but two months is a long time… so much could happen. What if we… what if we’ve worked so hard all this time, and…”

“And we don’t make it?” Robin sighed and reached over to tilt her face toward his. “I know you have more confidence in us than that.”

“That’s the other problem. What if we’re too caught up in our own potential for greatness that we’re just… spiraling into the sun like Icarus?”

Robin frowned. “I thought Icarus fell into the ocean in the end?”

“You know what I mean.” Regina tried to glare but even her face muscles were too tired. “I just hate not being in control. You know that. And what we’re heading into…”

“There’s nothing we can predict in a competitive environment,” Robin said soothingly, threading his fingers through her freshly straightened hair. “Just look at how thrown we both were when Swan and Jones didn’t qualify this year. Imagine how they felt. Imagine how LeFay and Ambrose felt when their names were on the list instead. But we… we can control our own selves. We can keep each other in check. That’s something we can always count on. Regardless of what everyone else is going… we’re always going to be Mills and Locksley. Regina and Robin. The Ice Queen and the Prince of Thieves.”

That last one made her laugh. “A queen and her outlaw. I like it.”

His cocky smile returned. “I like it too.”

“Now can we please keep watching,” Regina whined. “We’re missing Jasmine.”

Robin was intrigued. “Why the sudden interest in Jasmine Hart?”

Regina shrugged. “She’s a huge fan of us, apparently. And she’s debuting a new free program tomorrow.”

“Mid-season program change. Risky move,” Robin noted.

“Not so risky. One of the Russian girls is doing Carmen and it’s not like she needed the comparison.”

“Ah.” Robin sighed. “It always comes back to Carmen in figure skating, doesn’t it?”

“Always.”

But there would be no Carmen in the short program today. Instead they were treated to a series of haunting and emotional programs from the top three ladies. Jasmine skated to a melancholy piece called “Back to Sleep” by Factory of Dreams and Regina was utterly riveted. “She’s so perky in real life. I had no idea she was capable of such emotional depth. Or such cool spin variations.”

“Beautiful lines,” Robin agreed. “She’s come a long way in one season.”

But has she come far enough to be a threat to Elsa and Kira? Regina wondered. Kira skated to a ballad called “Ghost of a Rose” by Blackmore’s Night that had tears prickling in the corners of Regina’s eyes again. Then finally it was Elsa’s turn.

After living with her for nearly six months, Regina and Robin both knew Elsa’s little quirks and foibles. So when she skated out with her head bowed, they knew it meant their friend was extra nervous. But they weren’t worried. Not yet. It was only when Elsa stumbled out of her opening combination jump that Regina started to fret.

“I hope she rotated that,” Robin pondered, frowning at the screen. “It was hard to tell from here.”

But the program, to the music of Madonna’s “Frozen”, only got shakier from there. Elsa travelled on her layback spin, botched the landing of her double axel and got off the beat of the music in the step sequence. “Oh no,” Regina sighed as the camera zoomed in on the poor girl’s pale face after the program. “She looks devastated.” Was she crying? Her eyes were red. Or maybe it was Regina’s eyes that were red. She almost felt like she’d been out there with her, feeling her heart plummet with every less-than-perfect element. Regina whimpered and turned away from the screen. She couldn’t watch this.

Robin kept a wary eye on the screen as he rubbed Regina’s back. He’d felt it too: the bewilderment and loss that comes when a program doesn’t go your way. He hadn’t felt it in years, but he knew the feeling all too well. It was like his last days with Marian: knowing that his timing was off, the arguing that ensued (both with her and with himself) and the overall feeling of helplessness. The scores came up and the worst was confirmed: Elsa had lost grade of execution marks on two out of three jumps and her combination had been downgraded. “Tink must be beside herself, watching from home,” he murmured when Regina finally surfaced. “I should text her.”

“Where did Elsa finish?” Regina asked in a small voice.

Robin gritted his teeth. “Fourth overall. Only half a point behind Ashley though.”

“So there’s still hope.” But for the reigning world champion and Olympic frontrunner, it was a disastrous result. “If she can pull up tomorrow, she might still make the podium.” She forced herself to sit up and find her phone. “I’ll text Elsa. She could use a hope speech right about now.”

“And I’ll text Tink, make sure she’s holding up alright.” 

It was cruel that Mills and Locksley could only spend so much time reassuring Elsa and Tink when they had their own free dance problems to worry about. They were also sitting in fourth after the short, which was where they’d expected to be, with only half a point separating them from Marvella and Gardiner. Half a point. It was a small thing, only a fraction of a whole number, but it represented the difference between being on the podium or off it. Of being the second-ranked US dance team or being tied for first. So much was riding on the numbers they posted today. Too much. 

Regina forced herself to breathe, inhaling and exhaling slowly, anchoring herself once again. Forget the damn marks. Just skate like you know you can. Win them over with the story.

She tried her hardest. It was all she could do. Regina threw herself into the free dance with such rigour she smacked Robin in the face when she tossed her hair at the start of the program. She turned away, mortified because she wasn’t supposed to look at him yet but she could still hear him chuckling when they fell into hold for the first step sequence. “Keep up the theatrics, love. I feel good about our chances today.” Regina was so deep into competitive mode that the rest of the free dance was a blur. It was only when their score was announced – just over 111 points – that she snapped out of her trance. Two points higher than Worlds last season and a new personal best. But was it enough?

The final combined totals told the story: once again Mills and Locksley had beaten Marvella and Gardiner in the free dance but Marvella and Gardiner held onto the lead thanks to that lousy half a point more from the short. That was when Regina broke down. The second they were alone away from the cameras, the tears started to fall. “We were so close,” she whimpered as Robin rocked her in his arms. “It’s not fair. We’ve worked so hard…”

“I know,” Robin whispered. “I thought we’d done it that time.”

“I just…” she sniffled, lifting her tear-streaked face, “I just wanted to win.”

“I know,” Robin repeated. “I wanted to win too. But we’re closer than ever…”

Regina pushed away from him. “So what? We didn’t even medal. They’re always going to be one step ahead of us. Always.”

“I don’t believe that,” Robin said, “and neither do you. I know you, Regina. And I know us. I know you won’t rest until you’ve done everything in your power to be your absolute best. We’ll get there. I have faith in us and I know you do too.” He wiped away her tears with his costume sleeve, knowing full well that Mal would chastise him for it later. So be it, he thought. She’ll know why I had to. “Let’s get changed,” he suggested. “Then we can watch the rest.”

Ursula and John had wisely stepped away during the interlude but now Ursula was waving frantically to them from across the hall. “What now,” Regina grumbled, then stomped over to meet the coaches. 

“Get yourselves cleaned up,” Ursula said brusquely. “They need you for the medal ceremony.”

Robin was utterly bewildered. “The medal ceremony?” he repeated. “But we came in fourth!”

“And then you took off so quickly you didn’t hear the correction,” Ursula elaborated. “There was a scoring error!”

Regina’s head snapped up. “There was a what?” And I’ve been balling my eyes out for nothing?

“Marvella and Gardiner had an extended lift deduction that didn’t get taken off!” John explained. “So you guys really were third overall!”

“What?” Regina repeated, even as the coaches were hustling them down the hall. “But how? How the hell does something like that happen?”

“Old computers!” Ursula exclaimed. “Input errors! Judging bias! At this point, I’ll take it. Now get out there, you two. You’ve more than earned it.”

But that doesn’t make any sense, Regina thought as they cooled their heels in the waiting area with the other winning teams. What were the odds that someone would not only notice the mistake but would correct it before the medals were handed out? Unless someone tipped the judges off about the mistake. But who? Surely if Alice and Jefferson had noticed their own mistake, they could have had the good sense to keep quiet about it. So that meant another judge or a coach had noticed it. But who? Who would benefit from pointing it out after the fact?

“I feel like an idiot,” she said to Robin on the bus ride back to the hotel. She’d stashed her bronze medal in her bag the second the ceremony was over. “I wanted to beat them because we were better. Not because of a computer error.” She couldn’t even look at the medal. It felt tarnished. 

“We will beat them,” Robin insisted. “And we did. They had a lift deduction.”

“Remember that time we had a lift deduction?” she reminded him. “Remember how hard you took it?”

He did recall. Though he also recalled it as the night of their first proper kiss. “I remember you cheering me up afterward,” he said, his cheeky smile returning. “I also remember how you like to look at the numbers.” He retrieved a printout of the marks breakdown from his bag. “Look at the PCS mark and tell me what you see.”

Regina’s eyes jumped from Mills and Locksley’s PCS to Marvella and Gardiner’s. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “We beat them on PCS!

“We did indeed. And we had the same technical base value. The only real difference was…”

“… they got better grade of execution on the twizzles and one of the lifts!” Regina realised. “That was my fault. My hair was in your face right before the first lift. We were slower going into it because I obstructed your vision.”

“So next time we’ll get in perfect,” Robin promised. “This is the key to beating them. Improving that first lift and getting the twizzles spot on.” He put the paper away and took her hand instead. “We can do this, Regina. We can beat them.”

And for the first time that day, she believed him. “You’re damn right we can,” she said decidedly. “I hope Marvella and Gardiner bring their best to Nationals. They’re going to need it.”


	21. Beast Mode

In the five weeks leading up to Nationals, Regina discovered a new level of competitiveness that Robin called “beast mode”. Beast mode was different than robot mode. Regina went into robot mode when she was stressed out and overthinking things. But beast mode went deeper. It brought out a fierceness in her that almost frightened him at first before he got used to it.

“I’ll never understand why people used to call you the Ice Queen,” he remarked on their last day of training before Nationals. “Not when you have this much fire in your soul.”

Regina grinned. “If I were a superhero, fire would be my superpower.”

That’s hot, he thought to himself. But what does that make me?

She laughed when he asked her about it. “You’re one of those archery guys,” she decided. “Hawkeye or the Green Arrow. Obviously.”

Of course he was the Green Arrow. “It always comes back to the Robin Hood thing with me, doesn’t it?” He laughed and shook his head. “Perhaps I’ll actually have to learn archery.” If I ever get a break from skating, he added to himself. Not that he was likely to until after the Olympics.

After the Olympics. They were only a month away now and it still didn’t feel real. All the months and years of training, to be so close and to still not know if he and Regina would be chosen to go. But Nationals would decide that once and for all. By the end of the week, their fates would be sealed.

Beast mode didn’t only translate to Regina’s on-ice presence: more and more it started to creep into her every day interactions with Robin and her housemates. She took to everything with an extra level of zeal and enthusiasm. Even mundane things like household chores: meals were cooked to perfection, laundry was ironed in record time and the bathrooms were cleaned within an inch of their lives. Beast mode crept its way into the bedroom as well, much to the delight of both partners (and the chagrin of Elsa and Tink.)

“We get it! You guys are in love,” Tink scolded them the morning after another passionate romp. “We should just soundproof your room already.”

Somewhere in the haze of training, sex and everyday life, conversations started happening. Conversations about what would happen after the Olympics. Conversations about what would happen after the post-Olympic Worlds Championships. “I don’t know if you’ve thought about sticking it out for another quadrennial,” Regina said, “but I think we could.”

They were lying in bed on the eve of their departure for Nationals; a comfy tangle of limbs and blankets. “As long as we’re still physically up for it,” Robin agreed. “Though… I have been wondering…”

There was a hint of worry in his voice that put Regina on alert. She propped herself up on one elbow, suddenly wide awake. “About what?”

Robin, still half asleep, murmured something about what would happen off the ice in the next Olympic cycle. 

“What do you mean?” she prompted, her mind starting to spin again. “You’re not seriously saying you think we’ll drift apart if we’re not skating, do you?”

Robin opened his eyes reluctantly. “No, of course not. I just wonder if… we might want to take a bit more time for ourselves.”

“Like take a season off?” Such an idea had never occurred to her. “No way. The landscape could change too much in one season.”

“I just meant… forget it.” Robin fluffed his pillow and leaned back again. “I just thought you might want to… make things more permanent between us.”

What does he mean by that? She wondered. We already live together. What’s more permanent than that? Then it dawned on her. “Oh! You mean…” oh God, could he really mean what she thought he meant? No. No way. It was way too soon to be thinking of something as permanent as marriage. “We’ve never talked about that.”

Robin sighed. “I know. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It wasn’t very romantic, was it? I just… I think it’s something we should talk about after this season. To see if we’re both on the same page about our future. But whatever we decide, I want you to know: I fully intend to be part of your life for a good long time.”

His words lulled her back to a state of sleepy comfort. “Thanks for not pushing the issue,” she said quietly, cozying up against him again. “I don’t care what label we put on our relationship as long as we’re together.”

But maybe, she thought, he’s a bit more old-fashioned. Could it be that marriage is a bigger deal for him than it is for me? She pushed the thought away. It was a big deal for her too. And it was a serious commitment. Not one to be entered into lightly. I guess that’s another bridge we’ll cross when we come to it, she thought as she drifted off. As long as he knows I have no intention of changing my name, we’ll be fine.

Not that either of them needed another thing to worry about before Nationals, which were being held in San Jose, California. Regina was on edge from the moment Tink dropped them off at the airport. Nationals were early this year to allow the skaters more time to train before the official start of the Olympics. It was little things like that – little changes in their routine – that threw Regina off-kilter. Regina didn’t do well off-kilter. It made her moody. “Perhaps we should –” Robin started, after Regina finished chewing out the hotel concierge over the room assignments. 

She ignored him. “They put me with her again!” 

Robin tried a different tactic. “Come on now, love. You haven’t seen Emma in ages. I’m sure everything will be…”

“Don’t say fine!” she snapped. “You don’t need to be Mr. Nice Guy all the time.”

Robin gritted his teeth. “I’m going to overlook that,” he said, “because you’re stressed right now and you’re unleashing all that pent up rage on me.”

She gave him a look that was all furrowed brows and downturned lips.

“But if you’d rather yell at Emma, be my guest.” When she got like this, he knew better than to coddle her. 

“Whatever.” She slouched toward the elevator, yanking her rolling suitcase after her. 

I’ll give her some time to cool down, he thought. And warn Emma, he amended when he noticed the other woman across the lobby. He waved her over. “Long time no see,” he remarked, hoping to start off on friendlier footing. 

Emma regarded him with suspicion. “Uh oh. I know that look. Let me guess: she’s gone full Ice Queen again.”

Robin smiled apologetically. “She’s in rare form today. I hope that doesn’t put you off.”

Emma shrugged. “My coach is Russian. It takes a lot to put me off.” She smiled but something in her eyes didn’t match her mouth.

“In that case, I’ll wish you good luck.” Robin gave her a polite nod and pressed the up button on the elevator. With the way the different skaters had been mixed and matched, Robin ended up rooming with Frederick Jameson. Their greeting was far more cordial: a friendly handshake before settling into comfortable silence to unpack. Robin hadn’t seen much of Frederick during the season, but he had tracked his and Kathryn’s results with great interest, so he knew Aurelius and Jameson were creeping up on Swan and Jones’s best scores. The battle for bronze is going to be interesting, he contemplated as he stowed his suitcase under the bed. Thinking about it helped take his mind off the battle he was about to face: the battle for gold.

The fans were talking about it everywhere he went: Marvella and Gardiner versus Mills and Locksley for the National title. He grinned his way through the media cavalcade, giving the same polite but empty answer to everyone who asked: “we’re just happy to be here competing against the best of the best,” he would say before Regina had the chance to say something more scathing. She’ll calm down once the free dance is over, he thought to himself. By then we’ll know if we’re going to the Olympics or if the last three years have been for nought. 

She grew quieter and quieter during the practice sessions. That was when his tendency to worry started to set in again. I was an idiot to bring up my silly romantic notions right before Nationals, he fretted. She’s too caught up to think long term right now. Thinking long term is usually her first instinct. What if she can’t see our future anymore?

Whenever his doubts started to creep back in, Robin forced himself to put it from his mind. She’s just stressed out because of the competition, he reminded himself. So are you. She’ll be fine once it’s all over and she can rest easy. 

But what if it’s never over? We have the Olympics after this, he reminded himself. You act as if that isn’t going to be a pressure cooker of stress and instability. Not just the individual event – there’s the team even to think about too. What if she… what if we can’t find our way through it?

The thought made him sick. He swayed on his feet and hand to reach for the change room wall to steady himself. It was only a split second of doubt, but it was enough to have Jefferson clear his throat and inquire after his health. “Just nerves,” Robin insisted. He was able to ward his competitor off with a weak smile. And as Robin walked down the hall to meet Regina before the short dance, his smile gradually became genuine and his confidence increased with every step. He had too much faith in their training to give up now. He had to be strong: for Regina and for himself.

He stood back to let the girls file out of their dressing room: a slow motion parade of sequins and blank expressions. Regina came out last, dazzling as ever in her cerise costume. “Hello beautiful,” he said with a happy sigh. “Shall we walk?” He offered her his arm.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She linked her arm through his and they fell into an easy saunter down the hall toward the ice surface. “The girls are behaving like a bunch of petrified rabbits today.”

“Let’s not talk about the competition.” He slowed down to make sure to catch her eye when he spoke. “Today I just want to dance with you.”

Regina was touched. “Aw. I love dancing with you. But… is it okay if I dance with you and for a good score?” She couldn’t stop competing, not even for a second.   
Robin leaned in to whisper in her ear. “No reason why we can’t do both.” He kissed her neck teasingly, feeling her pulse jumping under her skin. The distraction worked. Her shoulders finally relaxed and her game face returned. It was show time.

They had to wait a while to skate. After a one season experiment, random selection had been shelved in favour of returning to the old system based on world standing. That meant Mills and Locksley would be second last to skate: after Swan and Jones and before Marvella and Gardiner. “At least this way we can spy on Kathryn and Frederick. See how good they’ve gotten,” Regina pointed out during the warmup as the other couples whizzed around them on the ice.

“Not to mention Wendy and Neal.” Robin nodded in the direction of the new young couple. “We haven’t seen them at all but I’ve heard they’re quite good.”

Wendy Darling and Neal Cassidy were the first to skate in their group. The young couple skated to the music of Shakira and earned a huge cheer from the audience. “Lots of Shakira this season,” Regina remarked from backstage. “LeFay and Ambrose are skating to her too.”

“Different songs though,” Robin pointed out. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” She gave him a suspicious look. “Are you nervous?” Robin didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. “Drop the stoic act and come here.” Regina beckoned him over and pulled him into her arms. “I know it’s hard,” she said as she rubbed his back. “I’m nervous too. But we can do this.”

Robin risked a glance over Regina’s shoulder just as Darling and Cassidy’s score came up. He sagged against her. “Can we… not stand so close to the monitor?” he suggested. “I’d rather not know. Not this time.”

“Of course.” Regina took him by the hand and led him over to where the coaches hovered. “You relax. I’ll keep an eye on the competition.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and sidled back over to the backstage screen. He’s really nervous today, she fretted as Kathryn and Frederick took their starting positions. And maybe he has a point. Maybe I shouldn’t watch…

The music started and Kathryn and Frederick snapped to attention. So did Regina. I shouldn’t be spying. I should be supporting my partner. And if he can’t watch, I shouldn’t either. It might even do me good to get out of my own head for a while. She turned her back on the monitor and went back over. The coaches saw her coming and respectfully stepped back. “Hey,” she whispered. “I know you’re nervous. I am too. Let’s just… try to keep each other calm, okay?” 

“You’re not going to watch?”

Regina shook her head. “I’ve seen them skate before. Big deal.”

Robin sighed with relief and leaned back against the wall. “I’m being a prat. I know how hard we’ve worked for this and yet…”

“…you still doubt yourself,” Regina finished for him. “I know. I know because I do it all the time.” He’s so much better at giving the pep talks than I am. “Forget what I said earlier. I just want to dance with you too.”

He looked up and she noticed for the first time that his eyes were misty. “You do?”

“There’s no one else I’d rather dance with. Not now, not ever. So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to hold hands and wait until they call our names. We’re going to go out there and wow that audience. We’re going to get a great score and we’re going to go to the Olympics. Because we’ve earned it. Because we’re one of the best dance teams in the world. Alright?”

Robin leaned down to press his forehead against hers, as if by doing so he could finally fall into her mind and become one with her every thought. “Alright,” he agreed. “Let’s just dance together as best we can and see what happens.”

So they waited. They didn’t watch Aurelius and Jameson skate to “Historia de un Amor” and “Sympathy for the Devil”. If they had, Regina would have made some sarcastic remark about mashing together two songs that don’t belong in the same place. But she also would have noticed and appreciated Kathryn and Frederick’s long lines and rhumba hip action. Neither did they watch Swan and Jones’s Jennifer Lopez medley, though maybe that was for the best. If they’d seen Killian stumble out of balance on his twizzles and Emma miss the first key point in the pattern, they might have felt smug until the guilt set in. Mills and Locksley were called to the ice just as Swan and Jones were finishing and all they saw was their rivals having a strong ending to what they assumed was a strong program. The audience was so loud they didn’t even hear the scores. 

Finally it was their turn. They did a little pose and hip shimmy on the opening notes of “Mas Que Nada” before sailing right into the pattern dance. The dreaded rhumba pattern was one of the slower pattern dances, but it was by no means easy. There was one particular change of edge that many of the skaters struggled with but Mills and Locksley hit it perfectly. Their lift happened right before the change in the music and the twizzles were on point. Even the no touching steps felt safe and secure. Nerves aside, Regina was convinced they’d just skated their best short dance of the season and the judging panel seemed to agree. They were awarded a whopping 79 points for their effort.

“Oh my God!” Regina couldn’t help exclaiming when the score was announced. “That’s insane.” If we’re that good, Marvella and Gardiner will probably crack 80, she added to herself. Not that she could bear to watch. Once they were shuffled off to the green room, Regina pointedly turned away from the monitor and curled up with Robin on the couch. “I’m proud of us,” she said, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. “I don’t even care if the cameras catch us canoodling.”

Robin laughed: a welcome sound after his earlier reticence. “Did you just say canoodling?”

“I did.” And I can’t believe it. I don’t think I’ve ever said that word out loud in my life. She was so relieved to be done she didn’t even register the presence of the other couples in the room, or else she would have noticed Kathryn and Frederick’s restrained excitement and Emma and Killian’s dead eyes. It wasn’t until the latter couple left the room and were replaced by Marvella and Gardiner that Regina snapped back to attention. “What happened?” she demanded, still half-dazed.

The others gaped at her. “You didn’t see Killian wipe out on the twizzles?” Jefferson’s voice was low, as if he feared the displaced skaters were still listening. “I thought you always liked to watch.”

Under different circumstances, Regina would have given him hell for such a remark. “Oh no.” 

“Is the poor chap alright?” Robin asked. 

Jefferson shook his head. “Don’t know. They wouldn’t say.”

Just like that, in the split second it had taken Killian Jones to fall off balance on his first twizzle, Swan and Jones’s Olympic dream was in jeopardy. And the truly frightening thing was, it could have happened to any of them. “That could have just as easily been us,” Regina said to Robin after the short dance was over. “And now I have to go back to our hotel and face Emma.” Is this bad karma, she wondered, for not wanting to be roommates with her? “Let’s get this over with.”

Robin stood up. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Regina shook her head. “No. This is something I need to do myself.”

She found Emma decked out in her sweats and sprawled across her bed. She hadn’t even taken her running shoes off. Her skating gear had been dumped on the floor. She was in even worse shape than Regina had feared she’d be. “Hey Swan.” She sat down on the edge of Emma’s bed without waiting for an invitation. Should I take the positive reinforcement approach or the tough love approach? Which would Emma respond to? 

Emma groaned and shut her eyes. “I feel like crap. And I look like crap too.”

Regina kind of agreed, though she didn’t say it out loud. Emma’s eyes were red from crying and her face was pale. Regina had seen Emma in a state of despair two seasons ago at Worlds but this was worse. This time Emma couldn’t even bring herself to sit up. 

“You’ll do better tomorrow,” Regina tried to reassure, but the words sounded hollow. I never know what to say to this girl, she fretted. She’s so closed off. I’ve competed against her for years and I still don’t know anything about her, except that she likes anime and eyeliner. 

“But I won’t.” Emma looked up at Regina and the expression in her eyes was so vacant it stopped Regina cold. This was about more than just a botched set of twizzles. “Or we won’t. It’s too much. The pressure, the expectations… all of it. I’m just not cut out for it.”

Regina refused to give in to Emma’s pity party. “Don’t be ridiculous, Swan. You’ve been competing for years. And you’ve been a strong competitor all that time.”

Emma huffed and pushed herself up into a sitting position. “It’s just not fair. We were doing fine until…” she broke off and shrugged helplessly. “It’s Killian’s old hip injury,” she admitted at last. “When we didn’t qualify for the Grand Prix Final this year, we started training doubly hard for Nationals and he overdid it. I don’t even know if he’ll be able to skate the free dance tomorrow, let alone go all the way to South Korea for the Olympics.”

“Oh no. I had no idea.”

“I know.” Emma slumped forward to hug her knees. “It’s rotten luck, isn’t it? Right before the Olympics. Just in time to screw us over.”

“But you could still beat Kathryn and Frederick in the free dance,” Regina started to say but Emma waved her off.

“Forget it, Regina. It’s over.” Emma shook her head. “I didn’t expect our free dance music to be this prophetic.”

“What?” Regina didn’t understand at first but then she remembered. Emma and Killian were skating to a piece called “Changing Fate”. “So… what will you do?”

“The same thing we did last time: Killian will go back to physio and I’ll go back to my sports psychologist. Then we’ll take some time off and decide if we want to make the run for 2022. We still could. I’ll be 29 and he’ll be 30 by then, but there have been other ice dancers who hung in longer than that.”

“True. There was a Canadian team that skated into their early thirties,” Regina recalled. “Mind you, that was more than a decade ago, but still. They were two-time silver medalists at Worlds. And they didn’t get there until the last two seasons of their careers.”

But Emma wasn’t listening. She’d already made up her mind. “So I need you to do something for me.”

Regina looked at her expectantly.

“Unless Killian miraculously gets better overnight, this is your event to lose. So please… try to win it. Try to win it for all of us. You and Robin are the most improved team. You deserve it. Just don’t tell Alice or Jefferson I said that. They’re so good, but I just don’t feel anything when I watch them. You guys should win. You have to.”

“I’ll do my best,” Regina promised. For all of us. All any of us can do is skate to the best of our ability and let the chips fall where they may.

****

Regina didn’t tell Robin what was going on with Killian. It didn’t feel right broadcasting someone’s secret like that, not even to her partner. But she insisted on watching Swan and Jones’s free dance from the monitor the next day. 

She hadn’t seen much of them this season since they never met during the Grand Prix. So their free dance was completely new to her eye, aside from the bits and pieces she’d seen in the practice sessions. The music, “Changing Fate” by Serenity, recalled the story of Queen Elizabeth I and Sir Francis Drake. It started quietly, just a few instruments and a male vocalist, before building and adding a second female voice and more bombastic instrumentation with a killer electric guitar solo at the bridge to send the program to greater dramatic heights. It’s such a shame we won’t get to see this on the Olympic stage, Regina lamented as Emma and Killian took their final bows and skated off. Killian, exhausted but pleased, clutched at his hip as they went. He must be in so much pain. And to have still skated like that… tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to fall and ruin her makeup. She willed them away. Not now. It isn’t over yet.

She turned away when it was Kathryn and Frederick’s turn to skate. They don’t know it yet, but they probably booked themselves a trip to the Olympics regardless of where they end up in the placements, Regina thought. Aurelius and Jameson were skating to music from the soundtrack of The King’s Speech and though Regina couldn’t bring herself to watch, she could hear it loud and clear from backstage. She found Robin and all but collapsed in his arms, finally succumbing to her nerves. At least he seemed steadier today. For all his worries yesterday, today it was Regina’s turn to fret and worry about herself and everyone else. And when their names were finally called, she almost burst into tears again.

“Calm and steady,” Ursula prompted her. “You’ve got this, baby. The others were only a quarter of a point ahead of you in the short.”

“We can do this,” Regina said, rolling her shoulders and dancing on the spot to warm herself up and centre her fraying nerves. She reached for Robin’s hand and already found him reaching for her. “Come on. Dance with me.”

“I’d be honoured,” he said.

They stepped out onto the ice together. When the music started, Regina stopped being Regina and became the Queen: the Ice Queen, the Fire Queen, the Queen of Peace. Finally living up to the name her mother had bestowed upon her. She was breathtaking. Not a single person in the auditorium could take their eyes off her, Robin least of all. He did his best to keep up with her, to tell their story, to make it memorable. The crowd roared with every element, buoying the skaters to new heights of athleticism and artistry with every beat of the music. The free dance was only four minutes long but it felt like a split second in a much larger eternity, or a dream, or a daze. Something otherworldly. That was how Regina would describe it to an interviewer later. But in that moment, she knew she’d done it. She struck her ending pose and let out a gust of breath. For one horrible second she thought she might faint but then Robin was there, pulling her into his arms and whispering into her ear.

The audience was cheering so loudly she couldn’t hear a word. They took their bows and she clung to him all the way back to the kiss n cry, refusing to let go for fear of breaking the spell they’d just cast. If that wasn’t enough to win, then I don’t think I have it in me, she thought as she rocked back and forth on the padded bench. God, she was exhausted. The second the medal ceremony is over I’m going to sleep for the foreseeable future. It’s a shame sleeping curses aren’t real. I could do with one. At least I know Robin would wake me up.

The thought cheered her. She let her head rest on Robin’s shoulder and when the scores came up, she really did cry. 118 points. Nationals inflation aside, Regina doubted Alice and Jefferson could top that. She threw her arms around Robin and let her tears fall against his neck. “We did it,” she whimpered, unable to keep herself from trembling in his arms. “We’re going to the Olympics.”

“I know,” he whispered back and gently helped her to her feet. “Wave to the fans, love.”

Oh right. The crowd above and around them were still clapping and cheering. Regina wiped her eyes and waved up at them before the coaches hustled them off to the green room. Robin plopped down on the first chair and pulled Regina unceremoniously onto his lap. “You’re still shaking.”

“I gave it everything I had.” She held tighter to him, not caring that there were cameras and other people in the room. “But it was worth it.”

“If you guys don’t win,” Kathryn Aurelius spoke up, “I’m retiring here and now. That was… transcendent.”

“Thank you.” Regina tried to smile but she was so tired. Even her face felt tired. “I’m sorry I couldn’t watch you guys. I was too nervous.” She lifted her head just enough to notice that Kathryn and Frederick were the only other people in the room. “What happened to Emma and Killian?”

Frederick looked grim. “They took Killian to medical. He was in bad shape after.” He sounds guilty, Regina noted. He knows he might be going to the Olympics in Killian’s place now. But he wanted to earn it for himself, not to qualify on the back of someone else’s bad luck. She knew the feeling. She’d been there many a time herself. 

“How are Alice and Jefferson doing?” Regina couldn’t see the monitor from where she was sitting, so she and Robin slid down the couch to get closer. “Ah. They look good.” Of course they did, damn it. Why did they always have to be so good?

Good, but not perfect. Even though Regina’s head was still spinning from the rush of competing, her eye was drawn to the technical tracker in the corner of the screen. Alice and Jefferson were just finishing up and their technical score was lagging a few fractions of a point behind Mills and Locksley’s. Watch the judges bump up their program component score to make up for it, she thought bitterly. How much more can we do to beat them?

Not much, it turned out. No sooner had the thought formed in her head did the technical tracker tick down a point. There! Maybe there’s still hope. Suddenly she was alert again, watching, waiting for the final combined total to come up. And when it did, she had to bite back a scream. Alice and Jefferson scored 117 points for their free dance and with the slight lead they had after the short, it came down to 0.05 separating first and second place. But Regina didn’t care. First place was first place and she was finally in it. Fresh tears fell from her eyes as Robin drew her into his arms again. 

“We did it,” he was saying. “Just barely, but we did it!”

“I know.” She sobbed and made sure to step out of range of the camera. “We won. We’re National Champions.” Her legs buckled beneath her and Robin wasted no time getting her back on the couch. 

“Rest here, love. The press can wait.”

The next half hour was a blur. Regina was vaguely aware of Robin congratulating the other medalists and Ursula swooping in to clean up her runny mascara tracks. She was so overcome with emotion that she trembled all the way through the medal ceremony. She’d stood at the top of podiums before but she’d never had Jefferson on the step below. She couldn’t even look at him. Her only coherent thought was that he must hate her now. She stayed balanced by clinging tightly to Robin’s hand and even managed a weak laugh at the looks of bewilderment on Kathryn and Frederick’s faces. They couldn’t believe it either. If it couldn’t be Emma and Killian at the Olympics, I’m glad it will be Kathryn and Frederick, Regina thought as they took their victory lap. If only I wasn’t so damn tired…

Photographers swarmed to take pictures. Regina smiled and nodded but every second that ticked by was agony. Her body screamed for rest and by the time they were allowed to leave the ice her legs felt like rubber. But she managed to hold herself together long enough to change, do the press conference and make it back to the hotel before collapsing on her bed. When she woke up, Robin was beside her.

“Thank God you’re here.” She snuggled closer to him. “I feel like hell.”

“I know. I just hope you’ve saved some of that fire for the Olympics.”

“Oh right.” The Olympics. “We’re going to the Olympics.”

Robin grinned. “They haven’t made the official announcement yet, but… it’s safe to say that as reigning National Champions, we will in fact be going to the 2018 Olympics.”

Regina sighed happily and laid her head down on Robin’s chest. “Reigning National Champions. I could get used to that.”

Robin leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “And it won’t be the last Nationals we win. Not if I can help it.”

“Ambitious. I like that. But… let’s concentrate on the Olympics first.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”


	22. The Olympians

What does one pack for the Olympics, Regina wondered.

Of course she had to make room in her luggage for her skates, her costumes and her ubiquitous Team USA uniform – that she could scarcely avoid, though she didn’t enjoy having to wear the same outfit as everyone else, even if it was Ralph Lauren. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t even walk in the Opening Ceremony,” she complained to Robin. “Abbie and Crane are skipping it, you know. Because they have to compete the next day. The team event is one of the first events of the games. Maybe we should skip it too…”

Ever patient, Robin endeavoured to explain. “They’re skipping the Opening Ceremony because the pairs are the first skaters to compete in the team event,” he said. “They can’t be on their feet for hours before they have to skate. And since we’re sharing our spot on the team with Alice and Jefferson, we won’t even have to compete until the third day of the team event.”

Of course. Regina had almost forgotten.

In the Olympic figure skating team event, each country had the option of swapping out up to two of their teams or skaters between the short and the free program. So Marvella and Gardiner would skate the short dance for Team USA while Mills and Locksley would skate the free dance. Likewise, Ashley Boyd and Lily Page would be trading places in the women’s event. “I still can’t believe they didn’t choose us to do the short dance,” Regina muttered, even though she understood the rationale behind it. Marvella and Gardiner had scored higher on their short dance all season while Mills and Locksley had been victorious in the free. Regina could see the logic, but it still bothered her. “Our short dance is better. And I hate these team uniforms.”

“Come now. They’re not nearly as ugly as the ones from 2014.” Robin laughed at his own joke.

Regina glared at him, her upper lip curling. “Don’t even joke about that. Those sweaters were hideous. The entire world made fun of us. Even the Canadians.”

“And the British,” he added with a coy smirk.

Regina threw a pillow at him.

Elsa and Tink had already left. They were scheduled to arrive in South Korea with other athletes from their countries of origin, so Robin and Regina had the place all to themselves for a few days before they too would board a plane to the Olympic host nation. After some careful negotiations, Regina was able to secure Kathryn Aurelius as her Olympic village roommate. “I think I’ll bring along something to hang on the wall,” she mused. “Make it a bit homier. I have that print Snow gave me for Christmas…”

“The one with the horses running on the beach?” Robin recalled. “I couldn’t help noticing you hadn’t hung it up yet.”

Regina gritted her teeth. Despite the horses, the print was much more Snow’s taste than Regina’s. The pretty pastel colours were a dead giveaway. They simply didn’t go with Regina’s usual black and white aesthetic. “At least it’s not as ugly as that horrible bird painting she has in her living room. Those damn birds wouldn’t stop staring at me.” If Snow wasn’t one of my best friends, she thought, I would have set that thing on fire.

Robin sat down on her bed and put the pillow back where it belonged. “Let’s get some rest,” he said. “We have an early start tomorrow.”

A fourteen hour flight. Regina was already dreading it. “There better be some good inflight movies this time,” she muttered as she burrowed under the covers. “Snow’s already threatened me with her travel-sized Scrabble board.” A low snore greeted her grumbling. Unbelievable. He was already asleep. But soon she was too: asleep and dreaming. Dreaming of airports and ice rinks and thousands of cheering fans. For that was what awaited them in South Korea. After years of training, competition, injury and sacrifice, Regina Mills and Robin Locksley were Olympians.

Checking in at the airport went smoothly – a good omen, Regina thought. The girl ahead of her in the lineup to board the plane noticed Regina’s Team USA jacket and exclaimed, “Hi! Are you an athlete too? What’s your event?”

Regina flushed with pride, flicking a stray bit of lint off her jacket. “I am. I’m a figure skater. I’m Regina and this is my partner Robin.”

The other girl’s eyes lit up. “That’s so neat! I’m a skier. My name is Astrid.” She shook Regina’s hand enthusiastically. “I love skating though. I wanted to be a skater, but…” she gestured to her height and shrugged. 

Regina wanted to say that some ice dancers were tall, but it was her turn to board. “I guess I’ll see you in South Korea!” Astrid called over her shoulder. “Good luck!”

“Good luck to you too.” Regina echoed. It’s going to be like this from now on, she realized. Everywhere we go, we’re going to run into other athletes.

No sooner had the thought formed in her head did it happen again once they were on the plane. It was a fellow skater this time: Ashley Boyd, whom Regina had long admired from afar but never had the chance to talk to. “Hey!” Ashley waved them over. “More skaters! There’s a bunch of us over here.” Soon Regina and Robin found themselves in the midst of a chatty group that included several of the Team USA skaters, including a very excitable Snow.

“We’re going to the Olympics!” she squealed when she saw Regina and bounded out of her row to give Regina a back-breaking hug. “We’re going to the Olympics!”

“You mentioned that,” Regina muttered as she delicately extricated herself from Snow’s strangling embrace. “You’re even more hyped up than usual.”

Snow stared in disbelief. “It’s the Olympics, Regina! It’s happening!”

“It’s also very early in the morning,” Regina pointed out, but Snow was unabashed.

“The Olympics!” she repeated.

“The Olympics,” Robin agreed. “And I believe our seats are just over here…”

Thank God, Regina thought. It’s too early in the morning for this level of squee. Hopefully our seatmates will be more civilized. She looked over to see Alice and Kathryn were sitting in their row. Of course. They had to seat us with the other ice dancers. But she was too caught up in Olympic fever to mind. She stowed her carry on luggage and slid into place between Kathryn and Robin. 

“Regina!” Alice waved from two seats over. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“It’s surreal,” Kathryn spoke up. “And to think we’re all here together!”

Without Emma and Killian, Regina added to herself. I wonder if they’ll be watching from home. Everyone quieted down during takeoff but once the plane reached altitude, seatbelts unclicked at the skaters began to shift from row to row to socialize with their friends. Regina didn’t move right away. She sat like the queen she was and let the others come to her. 

Jefferson of all people was the first to pay his respects. “We did it,” he said solemnly, dropping into the seat Robin had temporarily vacated. “We both made it.”

They’d promised each other years ago as juniors that they’d go to the Olympics one day. Regina smiled at the memory. “Of course we never imagined back then we’d be going with different partners.” She couldn’t resist one last zinger for old time’s sake. 

“Touche.” He bowed his head in contrition. “I just wanted to wish you luck.”

Regina nodded, returning the gesture. “You too, old friend.”

Jefferson departed and Kathryn returned looking frazzled. “Too much socializing?” Regina joked, twisting in her seat to face her. 

Kathryn was embarrassed. “It’s never been my strong suit. Especially now. I’ve never had to deal with this level of attention.”

It can’t be easy for her, Regina thought. Taking the spot that everyone assumed would be Emma and Killian’s. No, not taking. Kathryn and Frederick earned that spot fair and square, Killian’s injury be damned. They’ve been sneaking up on the rest of the field for the last two seasons. They have as much right to be here as any of us. “You’ll get used to it,” Regina promised. “Why don’t I take a few pictures for my Instagram? It’ll take the edge off.”

“Plane selfies?” Kathryn looked dubious, but agreed. Regina snapped a few shots and posted the best one with a string of hashtags. 

“It’s easier to deal with the scrutiny if you take control of the narrative,” Regina explained. “At least that’s how I deal with it.”

Kathryn considered it. “I guess I could be doing more on social media,” she pondered. “Frederick’s better at it than I am. He’s not much of a talker but he has a way with words. It’s just so strange. We had a fanbase before but ever since we won the bronze at Nationals and Swan and Jones fell off the radar, it’s ballooned overnight.” She lowered her voice and continued. “Have you… heard from Emma since then? I know you were her roommate in San Jose, so I wondered if she told you anything.”

Now that Regina thought about it, she hadn’t heard from Emma since Nationals. She’d gone mostly silent on social media in the first few days after. Her last activity was a re-tweet of something Killian had posted about going in for surgery. “No, I haven’t talked to her. I tried to call her after we got home, but it went straight to voicemail. I did get in touch with Killian, though. He said the surgery went well.”

“That’s good. I just hope she’s not beating herself up too much,” Kathryn pondered. “I should call her again when we land.” Regina made a mental note to call Emma as well. 

Eventually the skaters drifted back to their seats. Many of them took the opportunity to nap while others read or listened to music. The excitement in the air grew with every passing hour as they flew closer and closer to their destination. A raucous game of Cards Against Humanity started after lunch and everyone took turns playing, even Snow. Regina fell asleep in the afternoon, only to be nudged awake by Robin a few hours later.

“We’re starting our descent,” he said. “We’re almost there.”

Regina straightened up and re-buckled her seatbelt. “It’s about damn time.”

****

The Olympic Village was a city unto itself. Regina, Robin and the rest of the Team USA skaters had heard tell that the Athletes’ living quarters were a breeding ground for partying, sexy times and other vices but for now, while everyone was moving in, it seemed civilized. “I’m told the real fun begins after the competition ends,” Robin’s roommate, a singles skater, said in a conspiratorial undertone after they got to their room. “We might need to work out a system if either of us is going to be hooking up.”

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Robin responded with a cordial nod. As a general rule, he and Regina didn’t hook up during competitions. But this was different than one of their usual weekend away Grand Prixes. They’d be in South Korea for two weeks. That was plenty of time for some alone time. Maybe during the men’s short program, Robin thought, since my roommate will be away for hours that day. I wonder how thick the walls here are…

Regina meanwhile was decorating her quarters with trinkets from home. Upon receiving Kathryn’s approval, she hung the print on the wall between their beds and scattered some candles around the room for ambiance. “I won’t light all of them, but I like to have them around,” she admitted. “A few of them are scented but I can pack them back up if you don’t like them.”

“I don’t mind,” Kathryn assured her. “I like candles too.”

In the excitement at the airport Regina had lost track of Kathryn for a few hours before they met up again at the residence. “I forgot to ask – did you get a hold of Emma?”

Kathryn nodded. “I did, finally. We ended up having a nice chat.”

That’s good, Regina thought. Maybe now Kathryn can stop feeling guilty and enjoy herself. 

“I promised we’d take lots of pictures and I’m doing a full run-down on my blog,” Kathryn went on. 

“I didn’t know you blogged!” Regina was surprised. “How do you find the time?”

Kathryn shrugged. “It’s like any other thing. If it’s important to you, you will make the time for it. I started mine while I was recovering from my surgery and I kept up with it after I got back on the ice. It’s actually a lot of fun. And to me it’s more personal than Twitter.”

“I’ll have to check it out later,” Regina promised. “But first, I have to drag Snow to the McDonald’s kiosk.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“She always swore she’d load up on McDonald’s if she made it to the Olympics and I’m dying for some French fries,” Regina confessed. “Are you going to be here? I could bring you back something if you like. Or you could come with us.”

Kathryn considered it. “What the hell. I could go for some fries too.”

Regina, Kathryn and Snow weren’t the only ones. The common area was littered with athletes chowing down on hamburgers and fries. Most of them were forgoing the traditional accompaniment of soft drinks in favour of water, but it was clear that it was a cheat day for everyone’s diet. “At this rate, there won’t be any fries left,” Regina muttered when they joined the back of the line. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Snow nodded to the deep fryer behind the counter where workers were salting and scooping fries like clockwork. She sucked in a deep breath and held it, a blissful smile crossing her face. “I can taste them already.”

But it wasn’t all fun and games in the Athletes’ Village. Coaches and officials roamed the halls, wheeling and dealing to ensure their athletes were booked for extra training time at a nearby arena. The athletes themselves were a tense bunch. After the initial novelty of being in a new place wore off, the nerves kicked in again until the hours leading up to the Opening Ceremonies. By then everyone was jovial again and ready for their shot at instant fame.

None of it felt real. The dazzling lights of the stadium twinkled down from overhead obscuring the real stars above them. Despite the cool evening air, the press of bodies made the stadium feel overwhelmingly warm. The skaters were used to having cameras in their faces but not this many. Even as she waved and smiled to the folks back home, Regina kept her eyes down to avoid being blinded by the spectacle when Team USA finally filed in for the Parade of Nations. “I should have worn sunglasses,” she murmured to Robin, who chuckled lightly. “Watching this on TV… I had no idea it would be this…” she gestured to the rows of identically costumed athletes and brightly dressed volunteers. 

“Intense?” Robin supplied. “You can always hold my hand if you’re feeling overwhelmed,” he teased, letting his fingers brush against hers. 

She gave him a sly look and twined their fingers together. “We could hold our arms up, Katniss and Peeta style. That would get the crowd going.” 

“It’s the Olympics!” Snow piped up from behind them. “It’s not the Hunger Games.”

“It feels like the Hunger Games,” Regina muttered. All the TV cameras and sponsors and fans swirling around. Sure we’re not being made to fight to the death, but we can’t pretend this isn’t as much about politics as it is about sport. The way the crowd cheered when the bigger teams marched by in comparison for the polite applause the smaller countries get… let’s not pretend we don’t have an advantage here. There’s no need to rub it in their faces.

But the build of up Olympic fever had taken hold of her teammates in its iron grip. All around her, the other skaters whooped and hollered, mugging to the cameras and high-fiving each other. Regina straightened her spine and marched on. This is the Olympics, not a free-for-all, she reminded herself. Some of us have to be a little more refined. She thought of Abbie and Crane and the others back at the Athletes’ Village who couldn’t march because they had to compete tomorrow. I should at least try to enjoy myself for their sake, she contemplated. It’s a rough draw for them to be leading the Team Event. I know I’ll be napping tomorrow when they do their short program. 

Team USA finally reached the end of its circuit of the stadium. The row of television cameras swept back and forth over the group to get the best footage for the television broadcast and this time Regina and Robin did raise their clasped hands in triumph. One of the cameras lingered on their faces when Robin leaned over to kiss Regina on the cheek. In the euphoria of the moment neither of them noticed. It wasn’t until the next day, after the image went viral, that Regina came back to her senses.

“Oh God,” she murmured when Kathryn showed her the picture. “It’s all over Twitter and Tumblr. What the hell were we thinking?”

Kathryn scoffed. “Don’t be like that. Everyone thinks you guys are adorable!”

Regina sighed. “I just don’t want to make a spectacle of myself. I want our programs to speak for themselves.”

“And they will,” Kathryn assured her. “Once everyone sees how good you guys are.”

“If Sidney still had a blog he’d be talking about how we’ve taken our ‘sad showmance’ global.”

“Forget about that. You put US ice dance on the map yesterday,” Kathryn pointed out. “And let’s be real: that’s good news for all of us.”

“True,” Regina conceded, “but it’s also more pressure.”

“Speaking of pressure…” Kathryn tapped a few commands on her tablet and turned it around for Regina to see. “Mills and Crane are second after the pairs short for the Team Event.”

“Second?” Regina repeated. “Who beat them?”

Kathryn scrolled down. “The Canadian pair, Smoak and Queen. By a full eight points too. And they skated to music from Beauty and the Beast.” She sensed belatedly that the play-by-play was doing nothing to soothe Regina’s frazzled nerves. “Never mind. You don’t have to compete for a few days yet. All you can do is do your part in the free dance. The rest is up to the team.”

This is exactly why I didn’t get involved in a team sport, Regina thought to herself. There are too many variables. But second place was good. In 2014, Team USA had come third in the inaugural edition of the Olympic team event. Not too shabby. They could come third again if everyone on the team did their part.

“Let’s find our men and hit up McDonald’s again,” Kathryn suggested, snapping Regina out of her reverie. “That will cheer you up.”

“You’re a bad influence,” Regina said as they left their room. But a good friend, she added to herself. God knows we could both use one of those right about now.


	23. The Team Event Part 1

It was a small mercy that the skaters couldn’t heard the TV commentators from the rink. When she watched videos back on YouTube, Regina always tried to find a version without any commentary at all. “All commentators are inherently biased,” she explained her reasoning. “I like to think I know enough about my sport not to need their help.”

“And some are just critical without being helpful,” Robin agreed. “At least they’ll be up in the box where we can’t hear or see them.”

“And we can count on Mal to keep the others in line.”

Mills and Locksley were not competing today. Instead they got to sit in the Team USA box and cheer their teammates to victory. Robin’s roommate, the singles skater, was with them, having already competed on Day 1. Lily Page, who wasn’t scheduled to compete for another two days, was also on hand. Dressed in their team uniforms and armed with flags to wave, patriotism was on full display from all ten teams in the team event.

Up in the commentator’s booth, Mal was ready with the call. “Good afternoon, skating fans. Welcome to Day 2 of the Olympic figure skating team event!” Mal had the perfect voice for commentary: low, authoritative and knowledgeable with just a hint of snark. She’d gotten the call to do commentary at the last minute and had every intention of making the most of her turn as a TV star. “I am joined in the booth today by my very dear friend Ms. De Vil and our long time broadcast partner Mr. Leroy.”

“Hello darlings,” Cruella purred into the microphone. “As you should know by now, the team event is the newest addition to the Olympic skating program. Ten countries will compete for gold, silver and bronze medals in a competition that spans all four disciplines of skating.”

“All but synchro, sister,” Leroy piped up. “Which is still not an Olympic sport, despite the push from the synchro community for its inclusion.” He tried not to sound bitter, but his voice betrayed him. “The pairs and the men have already had their short programs and today we turn our attention to the ice dancers and the ladies.”

“Team USA has put together a strong team this year and they’ll be looking to do better than the team bronze they won back in 2014,” Mal continued. 

“But they’ll have their work cut out for them to fend off the challenge from Teams Canada, Russia, China and Great Britain,” Cruella added. 

“Don’t forget Japan and Australia,” Leroy chimed in. “They could surprise us here.”

“And of course we also have teams from South Korea, France and Germany in the mix,” Mal summarised. “All of whom are strong in one discipline but weak elsewhere. After the short programs are complete, only five out of ten teams will advance to the free program.”

“We’ll be starting off with the ice dance,” Cruella continued. “This will likely be Team France’s strongest segment of the event, as their singles skaters aren’t as highly ranked. If they want any hope of advancing to the free program, Troyes and DuLac will have to place third or better today.” Cruella’s style of commentary was blunt and exacting. There wasn’t a flaw her keen eye wouldn’t spot.

“Team Canada is currently in the lead, having placed second in the men’s and first in the pairs events on Day 1,” Leroy intoned. He was the no-nonsense commentator in the group. Just the facts, no opinions. 

“And they’ve chosen to have their second-ranked team skate the short dance,” Cruella cut in with a sneer. “Interesting strategy. Hopefully it won’t come back to bite them.”

Mal deftly steered the group back to Team USA. “But the real story is Team USA’s ice dance rivals: Marvella and Gardiner versus Mills and Locksley. Marvella and Gardiner have been the top American team for the last few seasons, but Mills and Locksley have been creeping up on them inch by inch, finally besting them at the recent US Championships. Marvella and Gardiner will skate the short dance, leaving Mills and Locksley to compete in the free, should Team USA advance to the final.”

“Let’s hope they don’t botch up their teammates chances then,” Cruella said snidely. 

The commentators were tepid during the routines of the earliest teams to skate. South Korea, Japan, Germany and China were not major players in the ice dance arena. China and Germany excelled in pairs while Japan and South Korea catered more to the singles. It wasn’t until Tremaine and Scarlet took to the ice for Team GB that the commentators and the audience were roused into some real cheering. 

“Up next we have the top British team: Anastasia Tremaine and Will Scarlet,” Mal intoned from the commentator’s booth. “This long standing pair have had a string of success this season, medaling at both their Grand Prix events and coming in fifth at the Grand Prix Final.”

“Their short dance this season hasn’t been one of the strongest,” Cruella pointed out, “though their free dance has been a real crowd pleaser back home in the UK. Let’s see how they do today.”

Everyone – the commentators, the skaters, the audience in the arena and the audience watching back home – held their breath in anticipation. Team GB had been having a rough go in the team event so far, with their pair team finishing eighth and their singles man finishing dead last. Could a good score from Tremaine and Scarlet save them?

Anastasia Tremaine wore red – the perfect colour to set off her blonde hair and make her complexion glow. True to his name, Will Scarlet donned a red shirt and black trousers for their routine. The music started slow and sultry for the rhumba pattern dance before changing gears midway to the up tempo beat of Gloria Estefan’s “Conga”. Robin watched his old training mates with a grim expression. While the first part of the routine dragged, the change in energy woke up the audience and had them clapping along to the beat. He wanted his friends to do well, but he also knew the odds were not in their favour. Ice dance was Team GB’s strongest event, but it was possible that their lacklustre performance in pairs and men’s would keep them from advancing to the final unless they did well in the women’s division.

Regina had also done the math. “Season’s best,” she predicted after Will and Anastasia had taken their bows. “But with the rankings going in, it might not be enough.”

They sat back to watch French and Hopper skate next for Team Australia. Mills and Locksley hadn’t competed against them in a while and were both impressed by how much the perky Aussies had improved. “Were they always this good?” Robin wondered out loud. “Team Australia might be the dark horse in this event.”

The cynics in the commentary booth were less impressed. “They still lack speed overall,” Mal remarked. “And personally I don’t care for teams with too great a height difference.”

Cruella sneered. “Like a little child standing on their parents’ shoes learning to dance.”

“They have good edges,” Leroy interjected. “What they lack in speed they make up for in precision. And Hopper’s as good a lifter as any of the ice dance men.”

“But really – “Bailamos” for the pattern dance?” Cruella scoffed. “1999 is calling. It wants its ‘song of the summer’ back.”

But despite the mixed reviews, French and Hopper seemed pleased with their performance. “I really want Team Australia can hang in, for their sake and for Tink’s,” Regina hoped. “She must be so nervous.”  
“We’ll see her soon enough. Her scores could be enough to keep the Aussies in contention,” Robin predicted.

But they had the rest of the short dances to get through before the women took their turn. Guinevere and Lancelot were next, skating their West Side Story program for Team France. “I still can’t believe they’re using this music,” Regina grumbled. But she had to admit, her training mates were doing a good job. Maybe even enough to keep Team France in contention. “I just love this musical so much and it pisses me off when other people skate to it.”

Robin chuckled at her possessiveness. “I know what you mean. We do tend to hold tightly to the things we love.” He slid in closer beside her, inviting her to lean against him. “Case in point.”  
“Only you could find ways to keep flirting with me in the middle of a competition,” she sighed as she leaned into his embrace. “West Side Story was the first show I ever saw onstage, you know. It’s my father’s favourite too.”

Mr. Mills hadn’t been able to accompany his daughter to the Olympics. His health prevented him from travelling great distances but Regina knew he’d be watching their every move on television back home. “He loved West Side Story so much he even named me after one of the characters,” she continued. “My middle name,” she added, when Robin shot her a look of confusion. 

In all their time together, Robin had never learned Regina’s middle name. It had never come up. She didn’t know his either. “Let me guess: Maria?” he tried. “It’s either Maria or Anita.”

She smiled. “It’s Maria.”

“Maria,” he repeated. “The most beautiful sound I ever heard.”

Her back stiffened. “Don’t you dare start singing it.”

“Regina Maria.” He smiled contentedly and she relaxed again. “I hope I never stop learning new things about you.”

In the time it taken to have this conversation, the marks had been posted for Troyes and DuLac and it was now LeFay and Ambrose’s turn to skate. In an instant, Regina was back to business. “Let’s look alive. We’ll have to put on our happy faces and cheer for Alice and Jefferson soon.”

LeFay and Ambrose skated to a medley of Shakira tunes, including “The One” and “Eyes Like Yours”. Their performance was so compelling that Regina’s usually critical eye found less to be critical about this time. “They’ve gotten so good since last season. In another year or two they could almost give Lucas and Booth a run for their money.” LeFay and Ambrose ended up with a season’s best score and then it was Marvella and Gardiner’s turn.

Regina kept her mouth shut when her rivals took to the ice. As part of the Team USA cheering section, the camera could pan over to her at any time and the last thing she needed was to be caught with a sour look on her face, no matter how she felt about the program. So she plastered on her best phony smile and clapped and cheered with the rest. She still wanted her team to do well. And at least she could count on Robin to be more genuine in his praise. Hopefully the camera will linger on him today instead of me. I just don’t think it’s fair that their program feels more like a Spanish flamenco than a Latin ballroom program. I guess when you’re good, the judges don’t care about little details like that. Or maybe they think Latin and Spanish dance are the same thing, as if all Hispanic and Latinx people are a cultural monolith. Her smile faltered. Damn it. There I go, letting my feelings get the better of me again. She swallowed and looked down to compose herself. The program is almost done. You can get through this.

She didn’t relax until Marvella and Gardiner had received their score – the highest short dance score of the day, but a point shy of their personal best. The Canadians and the French were right behind them, with the Brits and the Aussies rounding out the top five. But the day was not over yet: they still had the women’s short program to get through. Regina snuck away during the ice resurfacing to grab a snack. She’d spotted a kiosk hawking energy bars on her way in to the stadium and she made a beeline for it now. The line wasn’t too long. Almost everyone else was hovering around the glowing golden arches of another McDonald’s station. Everyone but Alice Marvella. Just my luck, Regina thought as Alice spotted her and waved her over. Be nice. You may not like their short dance, but you still like Alice.

Alice didn’t even notice Regina’s reticence. “Have you tried these energy bars yet?” She looked skeptical and intrigued at the same time as she gestured to the display. “Abbie and Ashley are total converts. They talked my ear off yesterday back in the Athletes’ Village about them.”

Regina smirked. “Maybe they have a sponsorship deal,” she wisecracked. Alice’s eyes went wide. “I was kidding,” she added quickly. “But I’d like to try one to now for myself.”

“So would I,” Alice admitted. “I’ve never been one to jump on the bandwagon, but… when in Rome, right?” She smiled brightly. “I’m just glad I have a few days of downtime before we have to compete again. This team event is so odd. I wish it was after our regular events and not before.”

Finally someone else who gets it! Regina was relieved. “I agree. It would make much more sense for the team event to be after everything else.” 

The girls got their snacks and returned to the arena. Now that they were done competing, Alice and Jefferson joined the other American skaters in the Team USA box to cheer on the ladies. 

The commentators jumped back into the action when the first warmup group hit the ice. “Here we have skaters from Great Britain, South Korea, Germany, Australia and France,” intoned Leroy, all business as usual. 

“There could be a few surprises in this group,” Mal chimed in. “Tina Kerr of Australia is likely to lead, but Merida DunBroch of Team GB might be the one to keep the British alive in this game.”

“For those that don’t know, DunBroch used to be an ice dancer,” Cruella added. “After failing to find a partner a few years ago, she returned to the singles arena and has been sneaking up the ranks little by little.”

Back in the Team USA box, Robin had spotted Merida as well. “I remember her. We nearly had a tryout way back when.”

Regina glanced sideways at him. “Are you saying you could have chosen her over me? She’s a little tall for you, don’t you think?”

“Indeed. Which is precisely why I called you instead.” He gave her a playful nudge. “And all the better for all of us. Without Merida, Team GB wouldn’t have qualified a singles girl for this event. And then we’d be competing against… who was next in line to qualify?” He looked to the others in the box for help.

“Team Italy,” Jefferson supplied. “Team Italy was next. Then Team Spain.”

Robin gave Jefferson a nod of thanks. “It’s a shame Team Norway didn’t make it. They’re so strong in the women’s event and in the pairs. But with no dance team and their best man out with injury…” he trailed off, looking wistful. At least Elsa would be rested and ready for the individual event.

The local girl from South Korea skated first, earning a loud cheer from the audience despite falling on her triple-triple combination. The program, to the music of the La La Land soundtrack was fun and upbeat, so the program was still enjoyable even with the mistake. This was likely to be the end of the road for Team South Korea: their pair and dance teams hadn’t done very well earlier on. But it was a nice boost for the Olympic host nation nonetheless. Odette Ludwig, the German girl, skated next. “I wonder how many Swan Lake jokes this girl has to endure,” Regina wondered in a voice low enough that the microphone wouldn’t pick up but loud enough for her teammates to overhear. Probably more than Emma Swan, she added to herself. I wonder what she’s doing right now. Is she watching from home? Does she wish she was here?   
“At least she’s not skating to it,” Alice whispered back. “She’s actually pretty good.”

“Only a triple-double combination though,” Jefferson pointed out after Odette touched down from her second jump. “That’ll hurt her team in the overall score.”

“What is this music?” Robin wondered. “It’s familiar, but I can’t quite place it.”

“It’s another Nightwish song,” Regina said. Thinking of Nightwish only made her think of Emma again so she kept her mouth shut for the rest of the performance. The commentators were all atwitter about the German girl’s beautiful lines and spins though Cruella was quick to point out her technical deficiencies. “I think we’ll be waving goodbye to Team Germany after today,” she predicted, even as Mal and Leroy praised Odette’s performance. “But let’s see how Grenier does before we make up our minds.”

Elisa Grenier, the French skater, was a pint-sized jumping prodigy. “We might have underestimated Team France’s chances,” Cruella conceded from the commentary booth. “This little mademoiselle packs quite a punch.”

The skaters were less enthused. “Great jumps but not much else,” Alice summed up. 

“And Rachmaninoff is completely pretentious for someone her age,” Regina scoffed. “Technical score is on par though. She likely did enough to keep Team France in the running.”

“Or enough to make Team GB worry,” Robin added as Merida skated out to take her turn. He couldn’t see the other British skaters from where they were sitting, but he knew Will and Ana well enough to imagine their concerned faces. But once Merida started to skate and opened with a high flying triple-triple combination, he saw no further cause for concern. “It’s a good thing I never called her for that tryout. With jumps like that she would have been wasted as an ice dancer.”

The women in the commentator’s booth were quick to point out Merida’s costume. While all the other girls wore typical skater dresses, Merida came out in a sparkly bodysuit. “It’s so rare to see a lady competing in pants,” Mal said approvingly. “They changed that rule years ago, but hardly any of the girls ever do it.”

“She looks marvelous,” Cruella agreed. “She could do with taming that mane of hair, though. It’s coming out of her bun.”

Leroy harrumphed at them. “Hair like that can’t be contained, sister.”

Back in the stands, the other skaters clapped and cheered for Merida when she finished but then the worry set in again. Regina and Robin wanted Team GB to advance to the next stage of the competition for the sake of Anastasia and Will, but they wanted Team Australia to advance too for the sake of Tink. And Merida had just thrown a wrench in the plan.

Robin knew Regina’s calculating mind would be doing the mental arithmetic so he turned to her for help. “How’s the math looking? Could they both make it?”

Regina shook her head. “Less than ideal. The French girl did better than I expected and so did Merida. But let’s see how Tink herself does before we jump to any conclusions.” Regina told herself not to worry. She knew how fierce a competitor her housemate was. But she fretted anyway, twisting the wrapper of her long-ago consumed energy bar around her hands. She dropped it guiltily when she had to clap for Tink and it fell through the gap in the stands and into the row beneath. Damn it. Now I’m littering. She’d have to see if she could retrieve it later and throw it away properly. She didn’t need that sort of bad karma hanging over her head.

In the end, all their worries were pointless. Tink skated one of her best ever programs, slotting in comfortably between Merida and Elisa Grenier on the scoreboard. “Now we wait,” Regina concluded. “The Aussies and the Brits both did their best. It’s out of their hands now.” She was more concerned about Team France at the moment. Grenier had done better than anticipated, but would it be enough to make up for their lower scores in men’s and pairs? Australia by comparison had done better than expected in pairs, dance and now ladies. Even for Regina’s calculating mind it was too close to call. “We might as well sit back and enjoy the rest of it,” she said to the group at large as the zamboni made its way out onto the ice. “At least we know Team USA will advance regardless of how well Ashley does.”

“On that note, I’ll get us some more healthy snacks!” Alice offered before skipping off to do just that, leaving Regina and Robin alone with Jefferson and Lily, the latter of whom had suddenly become very interested in her phone. Jefferson cleared his throat politely and remarked, “Tina’s gotten really good in the last few years, hasn’t she?”

Regina got up in a huff. “She still goes by Tink, you know.” She slid out of their row to retrieve the trash she’d dropped earlier. Jefferson had always refused to call Tink by her preferred nickname. He seemed to think nicknames were undignified.

“Tink,” Jefferson repeated. The word sounded foreign coming out of his mouth. “Whatever she calls herself, she might have just saved Team Australia’s bacon.”

Regina deposited her wrapper in a nearby trash can. “Let’s hope so.” There were times when she wondered how she’d ever gotten along with Jefferson. Aside from their ultimate goal they’d had so little in common back when they skated together. Theirs had been a business arrangement but not a true partnership. And while they’d made peace, Regina still had trouble holding a conversation with him for any length of time. But peace was good enough for her, especially when she had her real partner beside her. As if he could read her mind, Robin leaned over and gave her a smile. One smile, and suddenly nothing else seemed to matter. Alice returned with kale chips and other assorted nibbles and the group settled in to watch the final flight of ladies.

The Canadian girl, Rapunzel Kingsley, was first to skate. Interesting that they didn’t send Jasmine to do the short program, Regina thought as she tried to size up the unfamiliar skater in front of her. Team Canada’s really taking a risk by having their lower ranked skaters do the short program and then swapping them out for the free. But I guess they’re so strong in all the disciplines they can afford to do that. She wished Team USA was that strong. Traditionally the US had struggled in the pairs event. It was only with the rise of Mills and Crane that the Americans had managed to make an impact in pairs. The men’s event was another issue: Robin’s roommate Michael was good, but he struggled with the daunting quadruple jumps he’d need to master in order to be a contender. Watching Rapunzel Kingsley only reminded Regina that Team Canada were the favourites to win the team event overall. We should be thinking about trying to catch the Russians, she scolded herself. They’re still beatable at this stage. But the Canadians… she looked back out at Rapunzel, who was weaving through a face-paced step sequence. Damn, she’s good too. We might be in trouble.

The commentators were similarly impressed by Rapunzel Kingsley. “She’s come a long way in the last year or two,” Mal revealed. “She used to be all jumps but she’s developed into quite a little performer.”  
“Interesting music choice too,” Cruella added in a voice that managed to convey approval and disapproval at the same time. “You don’t hear Jules Massenet very often.”

The Chinese skater who followed Rapunzel had a rough outing, making errors on almost all her jumps. Team China had done well in pairs and decently in men’s (as their top skater, Li Shang, was a fan favourite) but ice dance and ladies were proving to be their undoing. “Looks like Team China will be joining the bubble group with Australia, Great Britain and France,” Leroy summed up with a heavy heart. “Surprising, given how well they did in the pairs short.”

“But then their man didn’t do as well as they’d hoped,” Cruella pointed out. “Pity. This might have opened the door for one of the other teams.”

The commentators continued to gossip as Ashley Boyd prepared to take her turn. “This is a girl who really likes her film soundtracks,” Mal reported. “Austenland soundtrack for the short, Evita soundtrack for the free. One lesser-known choice and one very popular one. Let’s see how she does.” There was a nervous edge to Mal’s voice since she knew Ashley wasn’t known for her consistency. This was why Team USA was choosing to switch out its women for the short and free programs. Much to everyone’s relief, today was a good day for Ashley. She easily took the lead from Rapunzel but with the Japanese and Russian heavy hitters still to come, no one expected her to maintain it.

“Up next is Kira Yukimura of Japan,” Leroy intoned. “Another bubble team. Strong in singles, but no so well-off in dance or pairs. But Yukimura is one of the best skaters here. Team Japan might just make it through if she can put up an impressive score here.”

Regina had almost forgotten about Team Japan. Since they lacked a top-ranked dance team, she didn’t often get the chance to compete against Japanese skaters. But weakness aside, the Japanese singles skaters were some of the best in the world and Kira was one of the most consistent. And she was Elsa’s fiercest rival, so the other skaters always kept a close watch on her whenever she competed. Regina wanted to be extra critical of Kira for Elsa’s sake, but she found it almost impossible. “She’s so consistent,” she conceded as Kira landed her second jump, a triple lutz, with textbook precision. Her music, a haunting piece by Blackmore’s Night called “Ghost of a Rose”, cast a spell over the audience. What would happen later on in the individual event when Kira and Elsa competed against each other? They were both so good. Would it be too close to call?

Not if Team Russia had anything to say about it. Their skater, a miniscule sixteen year-old jumping phenomenon, swept the rink with everyone else and ended up posting the highest score of the day, leaving the audience in awe of her technical proficiency. And while she lacked the sophistication and experience of the older girls in the competition, the young Russian girl had artistry too. “Damn it, she’s good,” Regina conceded again. “Maybe even better than Kira.” The judges seemed to think so with the monster score they’d just given her. No one wanted to say it, but a score like that could throw a wrench in the Kira-Elsa showdown everyone expected later on in the individual event. “It’s like Lipnitskaia in Sochi all over again.”

“Perhaps. But it was Sotnikova who won the gold in the end,” Robin recalled. 

“It’s always the tiny Russian girl,” Alice noted, summing up everyone’s feelings. “But if my calculations are right, we’re in the lead for the time being.”

Regina snapped to attention. “What? How? The Canadians were leading yesterday…”

“We picked up 18 points today,” Alice explained. “10 for the short dance and 8 for ladies. The Canadians had the advantage yesterday coming second in men’s and first in pairs, but they only picked up 14 points today. As of right now, Team USA has 34 points overall and Team Canada has 33.”

“And Russia has 32,” Jefferson added, “so we shouldn’t get to comfortable. It’s still anyone’s game.”

Alice, Regina and Jefferson quickly did the rest of the math and came up disappointed. In the end, despite their disadvantage in dance and pairs, Team Japan were able to advance to the final on the strength of their first and second place finishes in men’s and ladies’. Team France also managed to sneak in by doing very well in dance and finishing in the middle of the pack in the other three disciplines. “Damn it,” Regina sighed, slumping back in her seat. “My math was way off. I was so certain Team GB or Team Australia had a shot.”

“They did a respectable job,” Jefferson said. “But the field was too deep. Even if French and Hopper had finished a placement higher, it wouldn’t have been enough. Which I think they should have, by the way.”  
Regina raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Jefferson to play favourites.

“They gave it their best shot,” Robin spoke up, summarizing for everyone. “As much as it hurts, they did far better than a lot of people were predicting they would. That’s a victory too. And it will be good momentum going into the individual events later on.”

But Regina was more concerned about Team USA’s momentum. They had the lead, however precarious it may be. But they could just as easily lose it and fall to third behind the Russians. They couldn’t rule the Canadians out either, since they’d chosen to save their heavy hitters for the free program. The strategy of sending their weaker performers to skate the short made a lot more sense now. “We’ve got our work cut out for us,” she concluded as she carefully rose from her chair. She looked to Lily and to Robin’s roommate. The fate of Team USA now rested on their shoulders, and the shoulders of the absent Mills and Crane. Today they would train and tomorrow they would forget about the math and do what they did best: compete. Team Russia and Team Canada would either rise to the occasion or be crushed by the American opposition. And Mills and Locksley couldn’t wait to find out.


	24. The Team Event part 2

The third and final day of the Olympic team event was a momentous one. Gone was the playful camaraderie between teammates in the cheering sections. With the top three countries separated by a point apiece, the tension in the arena was higher than it had ever been. The fans came out with their voices raised, signs and flags at the ready to cheer and encourage. The commentators were poised and ready to point out every mistake. The other athletes watching in the village were on the edge of their seats and the fans back home were crowded around their television, computer and phone screens to catch every second of the action. 

The athletes did their best to ignore it. Hidden away in the backstage areas of the arena, they warmed up and practiced, each waiting their turn to contribute to their country’s victory. After a training session the night before, Mills and Locksley arrived just as the pairs’ free program was finishing up.

“How is everyone faring so far?” Robin asked August Booth. A few of the ice dancers had secured a vacant practice room, each team retreating to a corner for warmups and stretches.

August finished the painful looking stretch he was doing before answering. “We won the pairs by the skin of our teeth. Our team, Smoak and Queen, botched the side-by-side jumps but Mills and Crane bungled the quad throw.”

Robin gritted his teeth. Just like that, Team Canada had taken the lead again. “Always a shame when no one does their best. Break a leg out there,” he said to his competitor, who nodded in acknowledgement. The time for vague pleasantries was over. The ice dancers would do one last off-ice practice while the men skated their free programs and then it would be their turn. Robin found Regina in their appointed corner and started his usual set of warmup stretches. Once they were both limbered up, they practiced a few of their lifts. Their coaches offered some last minute corrections but for the most part they stood back and observed. The network of coaches, volunteers and support staff kept an eye on the proceedings as the men skated their free programs. The Canadian skater was just starting when the ice dancers got the call to head to the change rooms. 

By the time the ice dancers were ready, the Canadians had upped their lead. Their man came second in the free behind the Japanese competitor. The Russians were also creeping closer in the standings: their man finished third while Michael, Robin’s roommate, only managed fourth overall. Regina had given up on doing the math at that point. She’d been so off yesterday about Britain and Australia. But Robin still had hope. By his calculations, if Mills and Locksley could finish third or better, Team USA would win a medal… as long as Lily Page came through in the women’s free skate.

It’s out of your hands, he reminded himself. The entire team has performed as well as they possibly could. All he could do was endeavour to do likewise. As a courtesy, Robin shook hands with the other men before they left to meet their partners. They were a grim group – all serious faces and unsmiling mouths. The women were even sharper: an army of blinding sequins, winged eyeliner and painted lips. And Regina, in her black and fuchsia warrior queen dress, was the fiercest of them all.

“Milady,” Robin murmured as he offered her his arm. “Shall we dance?”

Her eyes flashed dangerously. “We shall.”

Mal, Cruella and Leroy were back in the commentary booth today with the call. “That’s one of your designs, isn’t it?” Cruella asked Mal when they saw Regina’s costume.

“Yes indeed. Mills and Locksley have had an excellent season, culminating in their win and US Nationals. They will be competing in the free dance today, replacing their rivals Marvella and Gardiner, who skated in the short.”

“And they’re not the only country that’s done a swap. The Canadians have subbed in their top team, Lucas and Booth, while the French and the Russians have also made substitutions,” Leroy reported.   
“But will it make a difference?” Cruella prompted. 

“Not likely for the French,” Mal reported. “Even if their best team had competed in both segments, they’re likely too far behind in the overall standings to reach the podium. But it’s still a good chance for their second ranked team to get some experience. And the two Russian teams are of roughly the same level of ability, so it’s not likely to damage their place in the standings.”

“And Team Japan?” Cruella reminded her. “Do they have a prayer?”

“Not likely,” Mal said. “They have too much of a deficit to make up in this discipline. But their skaters have been training hard and they’ll be aiming for a new personal best score regardless of where Team Japan ends up in the overall ranking.”

The Japanese team skated first. Regina and Robin both put their noise cancelling headphones on and found a quiet corner away from the TV screens. Neither of them wanted to know how the others were doing. Not this time. They would be the penultimate team to skate, so they had plenty of time to run through the dance on the floor one last time. 

Back in the auditorium, the commentators were pleasantly surprised by the Japanese team’s free dance to Saint-Saens’ “Danse Macabre”. “They’re slower across the ice than the teams we’ll be seeing next,” Mal conceded, “but they have nice musicality.

“The black and white costumes aren’t bad either,” Cruella agreed.

“And it’s a personal best score,” Leroy noted. “Maybe in another four years, Team Japan could become a contender in dance.”

“Maybe in time for the 2022 Olympics,” Mal said. “It’s all about the long-term plan.”

The commentators and the audience now turned their attention to the French team. They were skating to a remixed version of Handel’s “Sarabande”, much to the amusement and dismay of the commentators. “I wish they’d leave these classical pieces alone,” Mal lamented. “If you want to skate to something modern, just skate to something modern.”

“If it’s not Baroque don’t fix it,” Leroy agreed. “What do you think, Ms. De Vil?”

Cruella sniffed, obviously offended. “The modern movement is an interesting juxtaposition with the classical music,” she pointed out. “It’s very European.”

“Sure it is,” Leroy muttered, too quietly for the microphone to pick up. 

Mal forced the others back on topic. “Let’s talk technique: how do these two stack up against Troyes and DuLac?” 

“They’re quite balletic,” Cruella said. “Good lines and posture. But their edges could use some work. Overall better than the Japanese, but not as good as their French rivals or the teams we’ll be seeing later on.”  
“But they’re young and they have potential,” Mal conceded again. “They’d be better served by developing a style of their own. This program reminds me of Troyes and DuLac’s early work. But they say imitation is the highest form of flattery.” The tone of her voice made it sound as though the opposite was true.

The French posted a season’s best score and the Russians took to the ice next. Backstage, Ursula and John hustled Mills and Locksley into place to skate next. Regina was so nervous she could barely contain herself. Even with her headphones on she could feel the wild energy of the place seeping into her bones. What was going on out there? She wondered. She groped frantically for Robin’s hand, catching his wrist instead and feeling the thumping of his pulse. He caught her eye and nodded. He was just as nervous as she was, but he was ready. They were ready.

They took their headphones off and made their way to the holding area. The Russians were on the last leg of their program and looking frazzled. But Mills and Locksley had no time to wonder what happened. The program ended and the Russians took their bows, leaving the ice free for the next team. Mills and Locksley skated out, deftly avoiding the last of the little flower girls who were still collecting the presents thrown on the ice for the previous team. They tested the ice beneath their blades and found the conditions ideal. The Zamboni had cleaned the ice before the free dance and after three teams had skated on it, the ice was worn in without being overused. Skating on Olympic ice brought an energy of its own: it was hallowed ground, the most sacred ice a skater could ever set foot (or blade) upon. Regina and Robin let the energy travel up through their skates and into their bodies, finding each other’s hands again, gliding around until their names were called and they skated to centre ice to take their turn.

“This is it,” Mal said in the commentator’s booth. “Team USA’s greatest hope. Sit back and enjoy the passion and the drama of Mills and Locksley.”

The music started in a rush of air and energy. Regina snapped into character, her head bobbing upward and her arms spreading on the beat. She moved forward on her right skate, drawing in on herself on one beat and back out on the next. The heavier downbeats of the song created places for the skaters to keep their upper bodies static while their feet did the work. Regina called it “dramatic posing”. It felt silly to practice without the music, but with Florence accompanying them, it only added to the spell the music cast.

Their first element, the stationary lift, had become their secret weapon this season. Regina had to balance her hand on one of Robin’s skates while holding his arm and rely on her core strength to keep from falling while he slowly rotated on the spot. They’d changed this lift from earlier in the season where they’d done a simpler variation with her facing away from him. Now she had to turn around immediately after he set her down to show that her character didn’t trust his character yet. There were a few more spots of posing leading into the first step sequence, all with Regina facing away and Robin watching. The idea was to create moments that could be captured in a photograph with each picture telling a new page of their story. Their other signature move, the mirror twizzles, came at the bridge – the music had been edited to include most of the first verse and chorus, eliminating the second verse and second chorus. The final chorus of “Seven Devils” faded into “Queen of Peace” as the skaters performed their combination spin around the two-minute mark. From there, rather than slowing down, the program picked up speed.

The transition in the music was intended in indicate the transition in the relationship of the characters they were playing. The lone wolf outlaw pledged his allegiance to the warrior queen and together they could conquer, or so the story went. For the moment the skaters were only concerned with conquering the rest of the program. Both pairs of legs were burning by the time they got through the curve lift and into the second step sequence. The second step sequence was a battle: the queen and her outlaw going to war against their common enemies. They coasted on pure adrenaline, the music beating in time with their hearts when Robin took Regina up into the third lift and fourth lifts. The last lift, a dizzying rotational lift, left Regina feeling disoriented long after both blades were back on the ice but she powered through. Only ten seconds more, she reminded herself as the music continued to beat around her and her body moved on autopilot. She threw herself into their ending pose as their characters finally came face to face in victory.   
The music stopped but the noise didn’t. The stadium around them erupted into applause, the audience roaring its approval with a standing ovation. Robin had his arms around her before she could fully take it in. When Regina finally lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up, she was greeted by a sea of signs and waving flags and the ice was littered with flowers. Her face involuntarily split into a smile as she took Robin’s hand again and skated forward to take a bow. “We did it,” she managed to say, her voice cracking as tears started to well up in her eyes. She snuck a glance at him when they turned to bow the other way, noting the dazed look on his face. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s sit down before one of us falls down.”

In the end, Regina was the first one to collapse in the Kiss n Cry, her legs no longer able to support her. She’d managed to keep from crying but when she looked at Robin again, he was misty eyed too. “I can’t believe we made it,” he murmured, shaking his head as if to clear it. “That felt like our best yet.” He turned to look at her, finally coming out of his trance when he saw how elated she was. She was trying so hard not to cry but he knew the tears of joy would fall once they were away from the cameras. His heart flipped over in his chest, whether from the post-competitive adrenaline crash or from the sight of her he couldn’t tell. Maybe both. She smiled and his heart soared again. No, it was her. It was always her. “I love you,” he said, softly enough for the microphones not to hear. 

That did it. A tear slid down Regina’s cheek and she smiled again. “I love you too.”

John nudged him. “Marks are coming in. Wave to the cameras and smile, kids.”

It was too loud to hear the announcement but when the marks came up on the screen, Regina smacked him on the arm. Robin squinted a little – his eyes were too watery to focus at first – but when he saw the number, he damn near fell over. “114?” He stared dazedly at the monitor as Regina hugged him and John slapped him on the back. Bloody hell. That’s higher than Lucas and Booth got at Worlds last year!

Regina knew it too. Once they’d staggered backstage away from the cameras she let out a squeal of unrestrained excitement and threw her arms around him. “They’ll probably break their own record in a few minutes, but we did it! Personal best!” She held him tightly for another minute before breaking away to finally cry. Ursula passed her a handful of tissues and gently suggested they go to the lounge. “You’ll have to change back into your Team USA gear and cheer for the ladies in a bit. Rest while you can,” the coach advised. “You’ve more than earned it. I’m so proud of you guys.” 

Meanwhile in the commentary booth, Cruella and Mal couldn’t stop gushing about Mills and Locksley’s free dance. “Bloody brilliant!” Cruella kept saying. “And I don’t give away praise easily. How is it that it’s taken these two this long to become the number one team in America?”

“You’re forgetting Mills’s previous partner,” Leroy reminder her. “Jefferson Gardiner. When she went out with injury, Gardiner and his new partner became the heirs apparent to US ice dance.”

“Heirs presumptive,” Mal corrected. “A lot of people were rooting for Mills to get back on her feet. And now we can safely say Mills and Locksley will be the ones to beat here today.”

“Could they possibly stay ahead of Lucas and Booth?” Cruella wondered. “They’ve never beaten them. And they’ve won multiple medals at the World Championship level. Mills and Locksley haven’t managed that yet.”

“But they did win bronze at the last Grand Prix Final,” Mal said. “It’s all about forward momentum with these two. They’ve had a steady, natural rise to the top without any major pitfalls. Their performance today is a continuation of that rise. And if all goes well, they’ll keep rising into the individual event and the post-Olympic World Championships if they choose to go.”

“They’d be mad not to. If some of the other teams skip it, they could clean house at Worlds,” Cruella predicted.

“Let’s see how Lucas and Booth answer the challenge,” Leroy suggested. “They’re getting ready to start.”

The audience, commentators and skaters directed their attention back to the ice. Regina and Robin, reclining comfortably on the couch in the lounge, were past the point of caring how their competitors did. They’d done enough to finish no lower than second in the free dance, which meant Team USA’s chances of a medal were all but guaranteed. It was down to Lily Page in the ladies’ free skate to decide what colour that medal would be. For once, they wanted to enjoy watching Lucas and Booth skate.

Robin had long admired the versatility their Canadian rivals brought to their programs year after year. The first year he’d competed against them, they’d gone edgy and modern in the free dance with “War of Hearts” and “Until We Go Down” by Ruelle. The next season, they’d used Nightwish combined with ballet-inspired movement. And now, this year, they’d taken a jazz approach with the La La Land soundtrack and the popularity of the movie had served them well. They’d been posting high scores all season and so far the scores at the Olympics had been trending higher than ever. “They’ve never done the same thing twice,” he marvelled as the skaters traced their way through a difficult step sequence. 

“Except for that signature split lift,” Regina reminded him. “It’s coming up right… there!” She pointed at the screen just as Ruby stepped on August’s skate with one foot while raising her other leg above his shoulder. “Damn. I wish I could do that.”

Robin leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You’re pretty flexible too.” He had first-hand experience with her flexibility, after all.

“Ha, ha,” she deadpanned. “But it’s a really good program. I love that variation they do on the exit to the spin. If we have to come second to someone, I’m glad it’s a team that’s actually better than us.”  
“You still think they’re better?” Robin agreed, but he was a little dismayed. After how much he and Regina had improved over the last three seasons… but at the beginning of that journey, Lucas and Booth had been significantly better. Two years ago, they’d been two steps above. One year ago, they’d been one step above. And now Lucas and Boot were were just marginally better than Mills and Locksley. The difference was in the program components score: Lucas and Booth always got top marks for their skating skills, choreography and transitions. But Mills and Locksley had been creeping up on the performance/execution and interpretation/timing scores. Technically the two teams were almost on par with Lucas and Booth scoring higher on the grade of execution for their elements. In the end, it came down to only a few decimal places on the scorecard. Lucas and Booth earned 115.75 for their free dance to Mills and Locksley’s 114.11. 

“Bloody hell, that was closer than I expected,” Robin realised after the marks came up. That’s the closest we’ve ever been to a top team.”

Regina was all smiles. “We made them work for it.”

They didn’t stay in the lounge to greet their rivals – for that was what Lucas and Booth would be for the rest of the Olympics. Not a lofty, untouchable team to be admired from afar but a team they were almost as good as. A team that they could someday draw even with, or even beat. After a quick change into their team jackets, Robin and Regina were greeted by their American teammates in the Team USA section with much fanfare.

“You guys were amazing!” Ashley Boyd gushed, bounding over to envelop the new arrivals in a pair of enthusiastic hugs. “This was your best free dance ever!”

“Hell yeah!” Abbie Mills agreed. “Nice job, Other Mills. And you, Locksley.”

“An exemplary performance,” Abbie’s partner added, with a bow of respect. “I take my hat off to you.”

“You almost had them!” Alice added. “Move over so they can sit. She nudged Jefferson and Michael to the side. “And give them a snack.”

Robin gratefully accepted a bottle of water while Regina went for the popcorn. “What? We don’t have to compete again until next week. I’m eating some popcorn and I’m getting more fries later.”

Once the snacks were passed around the women’s free program got underway. When asked about it later, Robin and Regina would both admit that they remembered very little about the final leg of the team event. Still riding high from the success of their free dance, they reclined in their chairs and entered a state of total relaxation as the event unfolded. The commentators were still buzzing about the free dance – Mal even went as far as to say Mills and Locksley should have scored higher – but Leroy got them back on topic when the women went out for their warmup. “In this final group we have Elisa Grenier of France, Tatiana Krylova of Russia, Lily Page of America, Jasmine Hart of Canada and Maia Katsuki of Japan,” he reported.

That got Regina’s attention. “No Kira?”

Alice shook her head. “They swapped her out. Probably want to make sure she’s rested for the individual event. But Katsuki’s brilliant. It doesn’t matter much at this point. Even if Lily came in first, the Canadians have too much of a lead for us to catch up to the gold.

“Oh.” Regina deflated a little. If only the judges had scored them a little higher…

“But don’t worry!” Alice went on. “We’re guaranteed a medal and silver is well within our reach.”

“And it’s an improvement over the last Olympics,” Jefferson added quietly. “Don’t beat yourself up, Regina. You did everything you could.”

She knew in her heart that winning gold in team had never been a real possibility. But for one shining moment, it had been close enough to touch. She sighed and reached for another handful of popcorn. Would a gold medal ever be within her reach?

But her negative thoughts fell away when she watched the women skate. They were all so good she couldn’t harbour any ill will toward them. Elisa Grenier, who Regina had been unimpressed by in the short program, turned in a competent performance selections from Samson and Delilah. Robin was impressed as well. “She seems to do better when she has a strong character to play,” Robin noted.

“I can relate,” Regina conceded. “And the beading on her costume is exquisite.”

Tatiana Krylova, the Russian girl, took everyone by surprise as Team Russia had also opted to make a substitute for the free program. “Is this the girl who almost won the Grand Prix Final?” Robin squinted at the diminutive skater on the ice. “Or was that the girl who did the short?”

Regina wasn’t sure. “They do look alike.” In truth, the assembly line of tiny Russian girls churned out excellent young skaters at such a rate that Regina could barely keep track of them. Krylova wound up for her opening combination and the skaters quieted down to watch. The small girl seemed to float through the air, barely touching down between jumps and flinging one hand over her head for an extra flourish. As she landed the second jump, the music transitioned into the familiar strain of the “Habanera” from Carmen. Regina smirked. Of course it had to be Carmen.

The American skaters felt a collective twinge of regret when Krylova’s score came up because they knew it was several points higher than Lily Page’s personal best. But when Lily’s turn came, they forgot to be sad about it. Lily’s program to Epica’s “Delirium” was too engaging. Lily accentuated the slow build of the music with elegant body lines and precise skating skills. Her jumps weren’t as high or as confident as some of her competitors but her spin positions were unexpected and unique. While some skaters skated over their music like background noise, Lily lost herself in it. Even though Krylova’s program was more technically ambitious, by the time Lily struck her ending pose, the Team USA skaters didn’t care. They knew they’d just witnessed something special.

And the spectacle didn’t stop there. Emotionally drained as they were from competing and watching, the skaters still had two more heavy hitters to watch. “Here comes Jasmine Hart,” Regina said when the Canadian girl came out. “I met her at the Grand Prix Final. She’s adorable.”

For all the talk of switching programs midseason, Regina had never seen Jasmine’s free program. She’d been too busy with her own training and her own worries. But when the music started, the familiar strain of a cello caught her attention. “Wait a minute,” she murmured, leaning forward to get a better view. “That almost sounds like…”

A low drumbeat began to build as Jasmine moved from her starting position, skating briskly around the corner of the rink to build up speed into her first jumping pass. “Oh my God,” Regina breathed. “She’s skating to the Wonder Woman theme!” 

The other skaters snapped to attention. Many of them had seen the Wonder Woman movie during the previous off-season and they’d all enjoyed it. The riff of the electric cello kicked in just as Jasmine wound up for her signature opening move – a triple lutz, triple toe combination jump. She landed it with flair and Regina felt her own heart jump in her chest. Forget adorable – this girl is badass. 

It was moments like these – seeing Lily perform so beautifully, followed up by a gutsy program from Jasmine – that the audience knew they were witnessing something special. Already skating fans on Twitter and the message boards were complaining that Lily had been robbed, only to change their tune a minute later to hype up Jasmine. Krylova’s fans in turn defended their favourite. Someone mentioned Elsa and Kira, even though they weren’t skating today. By the end of the evening, the ladies’ portion of the team event would inspire more debate than any other event of the day.

The commentators couldn’t make up their minds about who was best. Mal was quick to sing Lily’s praises but Leroy was firmly on Team Tatiana. “You can’t fault her technique,” he argued. “She’s a textbook jumper.”

“You’re both wrong – Jasmine Hart was clearly the best,” Cruella insisted. “Strong skating skills and a strong artistic point of view. You can’t beat that.”

By the time Maia Katsuki’s turn came, the excitement had reached a level of hysteria that would only be surpassed by the ladies’ free skate in the individual event. Regina felt sorry for her. “It won’t be easy to skate after two great performances back-to-back.” But Maia looked calm and composed as she began her program and that composure carried her throughout the performance to the music of Miss Saigon. As burned out as she was after a day of competing and watching others compete, Regina had to admit there was something special about the last skate of the day. “Kira might be looking over her shoulder next year. This girl is already almost as good as her.” Which means she’s also almost as good as Elsa, she added to herself. She’d been so sure the ladies’ individual gold medal race would come down to Elsa and Kira. But what if someone like Maia or Jasmine or Tatiana got in their way?

There were no sure things anymore. Even her own place in the standings wasn’t a certainty. They’d come close to beating Lucas and Booth only to have the rest of the teams nipping at their heels. Team USA would win the silver medal today, but what happened in the events to come was up in the air. But even as Regina, Robin and their teammates stood on the podium with their new silver medals around their necks, they felt a surge of happiness that no one could ever take away from them. They’d done their country proud. Now all that was left to do was wait for the big dance.


	25. The Olympic Short Dance

Mills and Locksley had exactly one week before they had to compete again. While the skaters quietly returned to training, the fan community was louder than ever. The debate over the ladies’ segment of the team event raged for days afterward and no one was able to avoid it. Everywhere they went, Regina and Robin were asked to weigh in on who they thought should have won.

“As close friends of Elsa Arendelle, we’re biased, so we can’t answer that,” Regina said, over and over again. “But all the girls in the team event had excellent programs and they all deserved those high scores.” Now stop asking me, she fumed to herself. I have no interest in being in the middle of a fan war.

The ice dance part of the team event wasn’t without controversy either. While the Canadian fans revelled in their victory, some disgruntled American fans thought that Mills and Locksley had been robbed. The only thing that annoyed Regina more than being asked about the ladies’ results was being asked about the dance results. “Everyone needs to calm the hell down,” she complained to Robin, who was hiding out in her room at the Athletes’ Village while his roommate used their room for some off-ice “recreation” as he called it. It was only fair: Robin had summarily kicked Michael out of their room so he and Regina could do some recreation of their own the day after the team event ended. “I’m already sick of this perceived rivalry they’re trying to build up between us and Lucas and Booth. It’s like they’ve forgotten all about Troyes and DuLac.”

“To be fair,” Kathryn spoke up from across the room, “Troyes and DuLac didn’t skate the free dance.”

“But they were second at last year’s Worlds. They’re next in line.”

“All these new fans – the people who only watch skating during the Olympics – they don’t know that,” Kathryn pointed out. “They don’t know about past competitions. They only know about what they’re seeing now. And they like what they see. Right now, they love you guys. Just enjoy that and don’t get caught up in the hype.”

Regina and Robin had made a habit of spending time with Kathryn and Frederick in the week leading up to the next stage of the competition. Regina found it less stressful to hang out with them than it was to spend time with Alice and Jefferson. They hadn’t seen much of Tink or Elsa. Their housemates were squirrelled away in distant corners of the Village with the rest of the athletes from their countries, but they still managed to check in via text message as often as possible.

“You should really put your foot down about being thrown out of your own room,” Kathryn said to Robin. “Michael has to compete again before we do.”

Robin was less inclined to judge. “He’s very committed to having a full Olympic experience, debauchery included.” He shook his head. “He’s being safe about it, at least. I’ve seen the proof of that in our rubbish bin.”

Kathryn grinned. “Statistics show more condoms are used during the Olympics than any other sporting event.” She lifted her laptop screen and tapped away at the keyboard. “Oh!” she exclaimed, waving the others over. “Emma just surfaced on Twitter again.”

Regina rushed over to look. “Aw, she posted a congratulatory message to Team USA for our team silver.” A picture of Emma, bright eyed and in full Team USA regalia with an American flag accompanied the tweet. “She looks good.” 

“She does,” Kathryn agreed. “She was so… blank after Nationals.”

Regina remembered Emma’s vacant, bloodshot eyes with a shiver. The poor girl had looked defeated before she even had to skate. She hadn’t realized it then, but she’d seen that look in the Village on the faces of the athletes who had already competed: complete and utter competitive burnout. Maybe it was a small mercy that Emma and Killian didn’t qualify, she realized. If she was that burned out before even getting to the Olympics, imagine how drained she’d be if she actually had to compete here. She felt another twinge of guilt at the thought. If Robin and I hadn’t gotten in their way, they wouldn’t have burned themselves out trying to keep up. She looked back at Kathryn who was happily scrolling through her Twitter feed. No, maybe not. I can’t control how the people around me are going to react in the face of stiff competition. Kathryn and Frederick aren’t burned out yet. If anything, they’re just getting started. Alice and Jefferson might be behind us now, but they’ve just as good as they’ve ever been. And Guin and Lancelot are going to be fighting for that gold, no matter what the fans say. None of them are burned out. They’re still very much in this fight.

This line of thinking brought her back around to Lucas and Booth. Undeniably the best in the world for the last few seasons, but they’d shown the first hint of vulnerability in the team event. Regina chalked it up as a statistical probability. No one could be as consistently good for that long without having a minor blip. They’d come on strong again in the next event and the fans who doubted them would eat crow. Nothing to worry about.

As if to prove her point, when Regina entered the women’s dressing room on the day of the short dance, Ruby Lucas, Guinevere Troyes and the other girls were in high spirits. “Regina!” Ruby called her over. “There you are! Guin and I were just talking about you.”

“About how the entire internet is in love with you,” Guinevere added for clarification. “They’ve been gaga over you and Robin ever since the Opening Ceremonies.”

Oh God, Regina thought. People are still talking about our Hunger Games moment?

Ruby went on “Ice dance has never been more popular and it’s all thanks to you!” 

She doesn’t even see the rivalry, Regina realised. All she sees is more attention being paid to our discipline than ever before. That’s the attitude we should all have. “I like to think we all contributed,” she said, “but I’m happy to lead the charge.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Guinevere warned her. “The Blue Nightmare is the technical specialist today.”

There was a time when such a revelation would have chilled Regina to her core but today she was just annoyed. “I was wondering when she’d pop up again.”

“She’s always popping up where she’s least wanted,” Guinevere grumbled. “But at least she’s not biased. She hates everyone equally.”

Ruby laughed. “The fans will have a field day when they find out. I can’t wait to hear about how we all got robbed.”

But as much as the girls laughed and joked about it, ice dance was no stranger to judging bias and controversy. While the pairs event received the lion’s share of the scrutiny during the 2002 Salt Lake City scandal, there had also been an alleged backroom deal between France and Russia to fix the ice dance. As a result, the entire scoring system underwent a massive overhaul and a new scoring system, the Code of Points, was brought in to replace it. Regina, Robin and all their competitors had grown up competing under the Code of Points system. They were too young to remember what judging was like before, but the memory of the old scandal still clung to the whole endeavour of their sport. 

A total of 24 pairs of ice dancers would compete in the Olympic short dance. The competition started early in the day local time in order to be broadcast in prime time back in the States. It was less than ideal, but the skaters were used to rising early to train. The elite level skaters at least were granted an extra hour or two in bed before their turns came. By the time Regina and the other girls left the dressing room, 18 teams had already skated.

Ruby managed to snag a printout of the current standings from a harried volunteer. “Ooh look.” She invited Regina and Guinevere to read over her shoulder. “Aurelius and Jameson are leading!”

“No way.” Regina all but wrenched the paper from Ruby’s hands to see for herself. “Holy shit. This is the first time they’ve scored over 70!” She felt a surge of pride for her friends. They’ve earned it with all the hard work they’ve put in, she thought. And if they hold on, they’ll likely finish seventh or eighth overall. Not too shabby for a team who were more or less called in to be the replacements. 

“And French and Hopper are right behind them,” Guinevere added with a little nod of approval. “I knew they were moving up. And Villanueva and Cordero did well too.”

“If they’re already giving out 70’s, we’re all about to score off the charts,” Ruby predicted. “Maybe old Blue isn’t so mean anymore.”

“Not bloody likely,” Anastasia Tremaine piped up. “What d’you reckon, Alice?”

“She looks as mean as ever,” Alice noted. “But who knows. Maybe she got reprimanded by the governing body for being a miserable old stick in the mud.”

The girls all giggled nervously. They needed a bit of last minute laughter to alleviate the tension they were all feeling. They still had a few minutes before they’d be called to the ice for warmups, so the girls split up to meet their partners and coaches for some last minute advice. 

As the skaters stretched and bounced up and down to keep warm, the audience and the commentators were still buzzing with excitement over the last group of competitors. “A truly outstanding performance from Aurelius and Jameson,” Mal was saying. “This is a team that’s flown under the radar back home but they put themselves on the map today in a big way.”

“They didn’t suffer from being left out of the team event either,” Cruella added. “They’ve been quietly making a name for themselves on the international scene for the last few seasons, inching up little by little with their consistent performances. A lot of us thought they’d be permanently setback after Kathryn’s injury a few years ago, but they’ve really impressed me today.”

“These American teams have had to deal with a lot of adversity,” Leroy said. “Partnership breakups, injuries, the whole nine yards. And all that adversity has bred a stronger calibre skater as a result. We’ll be seeing more of that in the final group.”

“And here they come: from America, Alice Marvella and Jefferson Gardiner!” The audience cheered. “From Canada: Nimue LeFay and Merlin Ambrose! From America: Regina Mills and Robin Locksley!” The audience cheered even louder at the mention of Mills and Locksley’s names. “From Great Britian: Anastasia Tremaine and Will Scarlet! From France: Guinevere Troyes and Lancelot DuLac! And from Canada: Ruby Lucas and August Booth!”

The volume of cheering echoed in Regina’s ears as she took Robin’s hand and did a preliminary lap around the rink. The audience was even louder today than they’d been during the team event. It energized her, spreading through her body like adrenaline. This is what we came here for, she thought as Robin led them into a run-through of the non-touching step sequence. It’s finally time to put our training to the ultimate test. “How’re you feeling?” she asked him. He looked a bit dazed by the spectacle but the sound of her voice brought him back. “We’re ready,” he said. “Time to make history.”

Regina did something very out of character and let out a giggle. She didn’t like to laugh during the warmup, but Robin had reminded her of something. “Did you just make a Yuri on Ice reference?”

Robin grinned and ducked his head. “Not intentionally. I believe the line is, ‘we were born to make history’.”

She’d always found the theme song from the famous skating anime far too cheesy for her tastes, but today she would embrace it. “There’s no one I’d rather make history with than you.”

They retreated to a quiet corner after the warmup to wait their turn. Being third out in the final group wasn’t an ideal draw, but they would have to make the most of it. They had time to do a few more stretches and off-ice exercises while the first two teams competed. Back in the arena, the commentators were beside themselves with excitement.

“We may have spoken too soon about Aurelius and Jameson being a threat,” Mal conceded. “LeFay and Ambrose are on fire today! I’ve never seen them skate the pattern dance with such confidence.”

“It doesn’t hurt that they’re both rather attractive,” Cruella added. “Then again, this is ice dance, darling. Everyone is attractive.”

Leroy harrumphed. He would much rather talk about technique and statistics but Mal and Cruella steamrolled over him.

“And the costumes!” Mal went on. “Sleek and modern with just the right amount of sparkle. I’d love to get the name of their designer.” She made the compliment sound ominous. “How high are they likely to score for that?”

Leroy finally managed to cut in. “They got all the key points on the pattern. Then again, the Canadian teams have always excelled there. Easily over 70 and most likely a new personal best.”

Leroy was correct: LeFay and Ambrose scored a solid 72.04 to overtake Aurelius and Jameson for the lead. “With some of our middle of the pack teams scoring over 70 today, how much pressure will that put on the heavy hitters?” Mal wondered. “Will scores keep skewing higher than usual?”

“If they perform at their usual standard, I see no reason why the scores won’t keep going higher,” Leroy predicted. “Speaking of high standards, here come Marvella and Gardiner. Recently dethroned from the position of #1 US ice dance team. They’ll be fighting to prove they’ve still got it.”

Mills and Locksley were called to the holding area halfway through Marvella and Gardiner’s routine. Regina did her best to stay in the zone and not be distracted by her former partner, though she knew he’d be at his best today. Just as she intended to be. Robin kept his back to the ice, choosing instead to keep an eye on Regina. Somehow he’d expected her to be a bundle of nerves, but she was utterly calm. Her confidence buoyed his own and when Marvella and Gardiner finished their program he clapped harder than anyone, though he barely registered that anything else was happening. It was like they were in a bubble together: their own private space, one dimension removed from the roaring crowd and the swooping cameras. Even their coaches seemed a world away. When they stepped out together, that same feeling they’d both had during the team event, the sense that the ice itself was energized with possibility, returned. The skaters let the energy overtake them as they skated to centre ice to take their turn.

“Up next we have Mills and Locksley,” Mal reported from the commentary booth. “These two made quite a splash during the opening ceremonies with their viral picture.”

“And they’ve become even more famous after the team event with that glorious free dance of theirs,” Cruella added. “Let’s see how they stack up against the rest of the field today. These two are definitely in the hunt for a medal.”

The audience and the commentators fell silent. The music started. The skaters sprang to life – Regina with a playful swivel of her hips, Robin with a dance pose – and they were off. They opened with their signature mirror twizzles – with extra hip action to suit the Latin theme. The second and most difficult element was the pattern dance. All the dancers had to so the same set of predetermined steps. They all started in the same corner of the rink and they all had to hit the correct movements and edges in the correct beat of the music. For an ice dancer, the pattern could make or break your score. Each pattern had specific key points that the skaters had to hit and if they didn’t, they would be slapped with a lower level of difficulty for the element and a lower base value. The goal was to get level four – not an easy feat when this season’s pattern included a difficult change of edge on a choctaw turn. The technical specialists had been slapping the dancers down all season for botching the choctaw. The most depressing thing, in Regina’s opinion, was that to the untrained eye, this move didn’t look very difficult. And while Mills and Locksley had performed the key point correctly more often than not, it still made her nervous.

In order to cover up her nerves, she made the most of the performance by emphasizing her posture and arm movements, just as her dance teacher had taught her. Hopefully if we really sell the character of the dance, we’ll still get a good grade of execution even if I miss the key point, she thought. The dreaded moment came and Regina felt Robin’s grip on her tighten as if to say, you’ve got this. She skated through the change of edge with finesse and from there it was smooth sailing. The pattern dance was followed by the partial step sequence, after which the steady beat of “Mas Que Nada” transitioned into the more drum-heavy beat of “Magdalenha”. This was Regina’s favourite part of the program. The samba moves in the choreography always got an extra cheer from the audience. The samba character was carried into the non-touching step sequence. They’d been working hard to increase their speed and difficulty here, chasing that elusive level four. Hardly anyone ever earned a level four, the highest level of difficulty, for this type of step sequence. But Mills and Locksley had earned one at Nationals. The program ended with a one arm rotational lift – another signature element for them. Regina didn’t like to repeat the same lifts too often, but they always earned a level four and a high grade of execution for this one, so the decision was made to sacrifice creativity for the sake of points. The artist in Regina hated it but the mathematician in her knew why it had to be done. Why take the risk with a new lift that might not earn them as high a score? At this level of competition, they’d need every fraction of a point they could get.

The audience didn’t care about the repeated lift: their praise was loud and enthusiastic, with a few people even getting on their feet for a partial standing ovation. Mills and Locksley took their bows and skated off, meeting Ursula and John at the boards. “How was the choctaw?” Regina asked in a low voice. Ursula gave her a smile and a thumbs up. Thank God, Regina thought. We can’t afford to lose that key point. And thank God we’ll only have to compete this pattern one more time after this. After a season of the rhumba, I am more than ready to move on. We’ve got the tango romantica pattern next season. We’ll kick ass at that.

Next season. It was too far away to even think about. So she put it from her mind and settled in next to Robin in the kiss n cry. “Look at all these flowers!” Ursula exclaimed, passing Regina a massive bouquet of roses. “The fans love you guys.”

“And we love them!” Regina held up the bouquet and waved to the camera. 

Back in the commentator’s booth, Mal and Cruella were in raptures over Mills and Locksley’s short dance. “I’m going to need to stand in front of a fan to cool off after that performance!” Mal said with a happy sigh. “Mills and Locksley always bring that sizzling chemistry to every routine.”

“And their excellent technique, let’s not forget that.” Leroy scolded her. “Looking at the technical tracker, they got a huge bump after the no-touching steps.”

“But it ticked down a little after the pattern. Did they miss a key point?” Cruella sounded scandalized. “There must be a stickler on the panel today because form where I’m sitting they nailed the choctaw. Which is no easy feat. A bunch of their competitors missed it.”

Regina and Robin couldn’t see the technical tracker from where they were sitting. Probably for the best, otherwise they would have been heartened to see how high it was, only to be disheartened when it ticked down again. But when the score came up – a whopping 79.35 – it was all Regina could do not to scream. She clapped a hand over her mouth as the crowd around her rained down their approval. Robin was leaning close, trying to talk into her ear, but his voice was drowned out by the cheering. Ursula and John managed to shuffle their dazed charges out of the kiss n cry before the next team started. “I’ll get you a detailed scorecard!” Ursula promised, gently nudging her skaters in the direction of the lounge. “Rest easy, dears. You were sublime! Simply sublime.”

Her praise made Regina feel lightheaded. She collapsed on the first sofa in the lounge without ceremony, too overcome to say her usual hellos to the other skaters in the room. Robin chuckled and took a seat next to her. “Steady on, love. Let’s watch the others on the monitor.”

That perked her up. Regina rearranged herself into a more dignified sitting position and turned her attention to the big screen. “Oh, Ana and Will are next!” she realized. “I love their program.”

Alice Marvella was astounded. “How are you so composed after a performance like that?” 

“I’m not. This is the façade of composure, in case the cameras catch me.” Normally she wouldn’t admit to such a thing but the others seemed to understand. “I can’t believe it. What’s the world record for highest short dance score? Eighty something?”

“82.43,” Jefferson reported. “Held by Lucas and Booth.”

Of course it’s Lucas and Booth, Regina thought. But this is the closest we’ve ever come. A new personal best. “They got level fours on everything, didn’t they.”

Jefferson nodded. LeFay and Ambrose looked resigned. It couldn’t be easy for them, always being in the shadow of Lucas and Booth. They’d beaten their personal best today but it wouldn’t be enough to contend for a medal. The unfairness struck her. They probably won’t have a chance of moving up until Lucas and Booth decide to retire, Regina realised. And why would they? They’re still young enough to keep going. But how long will the teams under them want to keep going if they have no hope of ever catching up? 

She pushed the negative thoughts aside and focused in on Tremaine and Scarlet instead. We should spend some time together during the off-season, she thought. We all got so busy training and competing this season that we didn’t have enough time for our friends. She glanced over at Robin, who was watching Ana and Will with great concentration, a small smile playing on his lips. He’s proud of them, she realised. Just like I’m weirdly proud of Alice and Jefferson for keeping at it. We may compete against each other, but we’re like a big dysfunctional family that actually cares about each other. I’m sure the fans think we all secretly hate each other, but it’s not like that at all. We all celebrate each other’s victories and we all suffer each other’s defeats. 

Ana and Will scored 75.81 – another personal best. “They’re still in the game,” Robin said softly. “Bloody hell, they’ve still got it.”

Regina nudged him and linked her arm through his. “I knew they’d do well. I had a feeling today was going to be good.”

Gradually the adrenaline began to wear off. Regina, Robin and the other skaters in the lounge all relaxed by the time the final two heavy hitters were ready to skate. Troyes and DuLac were up next with their West Side Story program. Having seen it a week ago in the team event, Regina’s focus was once again drawn to the pattern dance element. She thought she saw the slightest waver from Guinevere on the second key point, but then she blinked and the moment was gone. Maybe she’d only imagined it. She knew perfectly well from sharing a training space that Lancelot and Guinevere rarely wobbled on the pattern dances. What were the odds of them wobbling now, on the biggest stage of their careers?

The rest of the performance went off without incident and Regina felt the last bit of tension leave her body. She glanced over at Robin, who had his eyes glued to the technical tracker in the corner of the monitor. They’re on par with us on the technical score, Regina realised. Has that ever happened before?

The commentators, still reeling from Mills and Locksley’s performance, were a bit more critical of Troyes and DuLac today. “I thought they were more on in the team event, if you get my meaning,” Mal said. “But West Side Story certainly brings the nostalgia.”

“Ooh,” Cruella trilled. “The technical tracker just ticked down. Mills and Locksley had a marvelous performance today. Could we possibly be seeing another major shakeup in the rankings?”

The scores came in: 79.48 for Troyes and DuLac. There was a brief moment of confusion from the commentators and the audience. Mal and Cruella clucked indignantly at the closeness of the scores and a few people in the audience booed – though whether they were booing because they thought Mills and Locksley should have held their lead or because they thought Troyes and DuLac should have scored higher – was impossible to guess. The skating forums lit up with fans of both teams insisting that their favourite should have scored higher. But the hubbub died down when Lucas and Booth’s names were announced and the skaters glided into their starting positions. As divided as the fandom, the general audience and the commentators were on who was better, there was still a sense that Lucas and Booth were at the top of the heap and that the two other teams were battling it out for silver and bronze. 

Lucas and Booth started off skating to “Sway” for the pattern dance, showing off their effortless glide on the blade and mastery of the key points. But as good as they were, Regina began to get the feeling that her rivals had started off at a higher level of ability than any of the others, but while everyone else had improved by leaps and bounds to catch up to them, Lucas and Booth themselves had only improved marginally over the last three seasons. They were just that much better than everyone else to begin with that they maybe didn’t feel the need to push it any harder. That they were already closer to the peak of their potential because they set the bar so high to begin with. Regina shook her head to clear it. She had too many thoughts rattling around in there to enjoy the program. The change of tempo to Thalia’s “Mujer Latina” brought her back. The audience was clapping, spurring the skaters on to the big finish and the standing ovation that followed.

“Well that’s that,” Robin said. “They’ll take the lead for sure. Maybe even match the world record.” He didn’t seem upset. “Come on, milady. We have to change before the press conference.”

The dreaded press conference. They were so much louder and longer here at the Olympics than they were during any regular event. But Regina, Robin and their competitors braved their way through it. Afterward, Regina spied Ruby meeting Mulan outside the change rooms. She waved hello before ducking inside – they looked pretty cozy and she didn’t want to interrupt them. She wondered if anyone else knew, but none of Guinevere, Alice or Anastasia said anything about it when she met up with them later.

“Maybe it’s one of those things that’s only obvious when you know what to look for,” Regina said to Robin later on while they were on the way back to the athletes’ village. “The others look at Ruby and Mulan and think they’re just good friends.” She thought about the list again and shivered. “But it’s nobody’s business. Ruby would never have told me if I hadn’t stopped the list from coming out.” She knocked on the door of her room to let Kathryn know she was coming in. “Let’s just worry about the free dance tomorrow,” she said. “I’m not sure if I have room in my brain for anything else right now.”

Robin smiled and tilted her face toward his to claim a kiss. “Until tomorrow, my warrior queen.”

“Goodnight, my outlaw.”


	26. The Olympic Free Dance

“Good day, my darlings! This is Cruella de Vil with all your Olympic figure skating commentary. I am joined in the booth by my dear friend Mal and our broadcasting partner Mr. Leroy for the big dance. That’s right, skating enthusiasts. The Olympic free dance is about to begin!”

Back home in New York, Regina’s father shushed the chatting crowd of visitors he’d invited over to watch his daughter skate to victory. Elsa, Tink and the other singles and pairs skaters gathered around screens in the athletes’ village to watch. Around the world, skating fans turned on their televisions or fired up their computers to log into the livestream. For this one day, people all over the world would immerse themselves in the wild world of ice dance. 

Ice dance was arguably the most subjective of all the skating disciplines. Back in the 1990’s the sport had reached great heights of avant-garde artistry that left many casual viewers scratching their heads as to why it was considered a sport at all. The new judging system had done a lot to standardize the elements and the technical requirements and the sport had taken a different turn as a result. Today’s free dance would be the culmination of years of training and toil by the athletes. 

For many, there was no hope of a medal and only the honour of being able to call oneself an Olympian. For a team like Belle French and Archie Hopper, it was a chance to be the first Australian team to ever finish in the top ten. A strong performance in the short dance had left them in eleventh place, much higher than anyone had expected. They came out for the free with their usual blend of high energy and ballroom precision, earning excellent marks for their “Die Fledermaus” free program. Kathryn Aurelius and Frederick Jameson earned a personal best for their program to The King’s Speech soundtrack. Nimue LeFay and Merlin Ambrose scored a whopping 110 points for their Scheherazade program. In any other event 110 would have easily put them on the podium. But this was the Olympics. The marks would only get higher once the contenders took their turn.

Mills and Locksley would be competing in the middle of the final group. It wasn’t Regina’s favourite place to be. She would rather go first or second to put the pressure on the others or go last to be fresh in the judges’ minds at the end of the competition. But such was their luck. At a regular competition it would have bothered her more but this was the Olympics… she couldn’t let those negative thoughts get in the way of giving her best possible performance. Not after all she’d worked for.

“I just can’t believe that in a few minutes it’s all going to be over,” Robin said, jolting her out of her reverie. He was leaning against the wall, looking calm as could be. She envied him. 

“We still have Worlds,” she reminded him. Not that she could even think about the World Championships at a time like this. She didn’t even have the heart to check the scores. The numbers were just another distraction from the big prize. But if she let herself think about the medals, she’d start coveting silver even when there was just as big a chance that they’d fall to fourth. They gave pewter medals to the fourth place finishers at US Nationals but they didn’t do that anywhere else. We already have team silver, she reminded herself. Be content with that and keep going, damn it. We’re too close to give up now. “All we can do is skate this program to the best of our ability,” she said. “That’s what I keep telling myself. But I can’t stop thinking…” she trailed off helplessly. 

Robin pushed away from the wall and enveloped her in a comforting hug. “I know, love. It’s a lot of pressure. But we’ve got this. We’ve got each other. And we’re going to be brilliant.”

“How can you know that?” She pulled far enough away to search his eyes and his face for the answer. How can he be so certain?

“Because you’re brilliant,” he said simply. “And we’re brilliant together. We bring something to the ice that none of those other teams do. We bring our story. It’s a story that only we can tell.”

“Then let’s tell it,” she said. “Let’s tell it together.”

While Mills and Locksley comforted each other backstage, the commentators were getting ready to watch Tremaine and Scarlet’s free dance. “This one will be a treat for the sci fi fans in the audience: Tremaine and Scarlet will be skating to a very famous piece of music from Doctor Who called “Doomsday”.” A melancholic mix of electronics, vocals, keys and strings, “Doomsday” was the piece that played in the second season when the Doctor and Rose Tyler were separated – presumably forever – on different versions of Earth. “They embody their characters marvellously,” Cruella said with a wistful sigh. “Brings back such fond memories of watching the show.”

Her rare show of sentimentality seemed to make Leroy uncomfortable. “Yes. Well.” He cleared his throat. “How’s that technical tracker looking?”

“Their marks are trending high,” Mal reported. “I won’t be surprised if the world record for highest free dance score gets broken today.”

Tremaine and Scarlet were awarded 112.76 points: another personal best for the Brits. Anastasia was so overcome she broke into tears of joys when the scores were announced. Their combined total put them on track for their season’s goal of a fifth-place finish. Once they’d cleared the Kiss n Cry (after much kissing and crying) Marvella and Gardiner’s turn came up.

Cruella was still soliloquizing about the British, so Mal took up the charge once more. “The first of two back-to-back American teams, Alice Marvella and Jefferson Gardiner will be skating to music from the Alice in Wonderland live action film soundtrack, including the iconic “Alice’s theme”. It seems many of our top teams have chosen music that hits close to home this season. Alice Marvella of course will be playing the character of Alice while Jefferson portrays the Mad Hatter.” Alice in Wonderland was a whimsical change of style for Marvella and Gardiner, who usually skated to more classical themes. “Alice has such an expressive face,” Mal continued. “Makes up for her partner’s stoic look.”

“Personally I like to see my Mad Hatters a bit more… mad.” Cruella let out a faint huff of disappointment. “But it’s worked for them so far.”

The program had been a fan favourite all season, but the judges had been less convinced. Generally a skater would expect to see their scores rise throughout the season as they developed greater consistency with their choreography. Alice and Jefferson’s program had been scoring well but not well enough to hold off Mills and Locksley from overtaking them as the top American team. Today’s performance was no different: the score tracker was slightly higher than what the British had earned, but not insurmountably so. But the fans cheered as loudly as ever and threw presents onto the ice. Amid the usual flowers and toys, someone had thrown a miniature top hat. “Oh, look!” Alice exclaimed as she bent to retrieve it. “It looks just like the one in the movie, only miniaturized.” Once they got to the kiss n cry, she couldn’t resist balancing the little hat on Jefferson’s head. “You’re a proper Mad Hatter now,” she declared. Jefferson blushed, his usual calm demeanour finally cracking. 

Mal was beside herself. “Isn’t that adorable. The fans are so creative.”

“I declare, that’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen from Jefferson Gardiner,” Cruella said. “He should smile more. He’s rather dishy.”

Leroy cleared his throat again. “Getting back to the scores. It looks like they outscored Tremaine and Scarlet by a point and a half.”

“Higher program components,” Mal noted. “Debatable, at this point. Both teams pushed themselves artistically this season. And speaking of artistry, Mills and Locksley will take to the ice next.”

Hand in hand, Regina Mills and Robin Locksley had been circling the rink, waiting for their cue to start. They had 30 seconds from the time their names were announced to get into position. It was a mad scramble that always left the skaters with pounding hearts. As if skating your free dance at the Olympics with millions of people watching wasn’t stressful enough. Regina squeezed Robin’s hand for reassurance before turning around. Back to back at the start, face to face at the end. That was the story. But that quick press of skin-to-skin was enough to ground them both for the task ahead.

Regina loved the opening notes of “Seven Devils” and the slow, atmospheric creep of the first verse. She sank into it every time, her body moving almost of its own accord into the first lift and the first step sequence. Their skates cut smooth, deep edges into the ice, bending gently at the knees to generate speed, their legs extending smoothly and in perfect unison. Their arms were sharper, cutting edgy shapes and poses on the heavier drumbeats of the music as the song build into the chorus. The choreography had taken months to perfect but it was well worth the effort. The commentators were stunned silent during the elements. Even they weren’t immune Mills and Locksley’s spell. The other dancers who had already skated watched in awe from backstage. Even the audience seemed to be holding a collective breath.

Then the spell changed. The music shifted to “Queen of Peace” and from there the rest of the story unfolded. The warrior queen and her outlaw battled their enemies, overcoming the difficult elements and the breakneck pace of the choreography as the music pushed and pulled them to their victorious end. The crowd of onlookers surged to their feet to rain down their approval on the skaters the second the music ended. Tears flooded Regina’s vision as she looked up to see her adoring public clapping and cheering for her. For them. For everything it had taken to get to this very moment. Her knees wobbled – she was well and truly spent this time – but she still managed to take her bows and skate off to the Kiss n Cry hand-in-hand with her partner. 

“That was even better than the team event free dance,” she managed to say. She was still floating out on the ice somewhere in the euphoria of it all. “I love this program so much.” She sniffled and Ursula passed her a tissue. “Oh my God. It’s over.” Her spirit slammed back into her body with such force she swayed in her seat. The moment she’d work for all her life, her time on Olympic ice… it was done. It was over. All in one four minute free dance. She let out a huff of air and crumpled over, tears falling freely now. “Now I know why they call this the Kiss n Cry.”

Beside her, Robin was crying too. He wanted to be strong for her, but he was too overcome. “I know,” he whispered through the tears. “But we did it, love. We told our story.” 

She managed a watery smile. “We did. And it was perfect.” She managed to blow her nose as discretely as possible and compose herself, but when the scores were announced, the waterworks started again. 115.77 points: a point and a half more than they’d scored in the team event. 

“Look at them,” Mal intoned from the commentators’ booth. “They’re so proud. They even cry in perfect unison.” She sniffled into a handkerchief of her own, earning a look of disgust from Leroy, who was germaphobic.

“That was exquisite,” Cruella chimed in. “They took us all on that journey with them, right to the very end. No matter what happens now, Mills and Locksley are guaranteed a podium finish.”

“It’s hard to imagine anyone topping that. What do you think, Leroy?”

“I still think Lucas and Booth will claim the big prize,” Leroy predicted. “But let’s see what the French have to say first.”

Regina was dimly aware of being shepherded out of the Kiss n Cry and down the hall to the lounge. Alice and Anastasia pounced on her with hugs and kind words while Jefferson stood a few paces away looking awkward but proud. “Outstanding,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Once she’d extricated herself from the girls Regina hugged him too, much to his chagrin. “What?” she said, upon seeing the look of bewilderment on his face. “I’m hysterical.” She sat down on the sofa, leaving room for Robin to slide in beside her. “And I think I might faint.”

“I did faint,” Alice confessed. “Like a lady in a Victorian novel. But then your free dance brought me back to life.” She wiped a stray tear from her eye. “It was a privilege to watch, Regina. You should both be very proud.”

“Proud and exhausted.” Regina was suddenly hyperaware of how everyone in the room was staring at her. 

“Regina’s the real star,” Robin said softly. “I’m just here to help her shine.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough,” she said, waving off the compliments. “Let’s watch Troyes and DuLac. We haven’t even seen them since the team event short dance.” She didn’t want to think about the math anymore. She trained with Troyes and DuLac and she knew how good they were, even if they’d been virtually tied after the short dance. She shushed the others and they all quieted down to watch. “I love that lift,” she murmured. No matter how many times she saw it, she was still in awe over the upside down pose Guinevere contorted herself into. “And I like the music even if I’ve never seen the film it’s from.”

“Which film is that?” Anastasia asked. 

“It’s from W.E.,” Jefferson reported. “The film about Edward and Wallis. Seems fitting, with Aurelius and Jameson skating to The King’s Speech soundtrack. Lots of royal themes this season.” He eyed Regina nervously, as if fearing she’d hug him again. 

“As far as I’m concerned, Regina is the only true queen here,” Alice said with authority.

“The queen of peace,” Robin added, nudging her playfully and earning a smile in response. 

After all this time, he still flirts with me like we just started dating, she marveled. “They’re not really following the story from the film though.” On the screen in front of them, Guinevere and Lancelot were just starting their diagonal step sequence. “It’s a story about two people finding each other despite the obstacles that surround them. Notice how they don’t look at each other during this part of the dance, but they’re clasping each other’s hands so tightly.” She was starting to feel choked up again. “I’ve watched them train this program all season. It’s easily the best they’ve ever done.” And it’s probably enough to put them higher than us in the standings, she added to herself. She and Robin had skated the best they possibly could and she knew her competitors would too. 

She was so certain that Troyes and DuLac would emerge victorious that she didn’t even register the slight grimace from Lancelot at the end of the program. He was massaging his left shoulder as they skated off but Regina figured it was just a minor irritation. It wasn’t until Jefferson spoke up that she even realized something was off. “That last lift,” Jefferson said. “Did he break formation a bit early?”

“I don’t think so.” Robin leaned forward to get a better look at the playback. “I think they’ve just modified it. That’s how they’ve been doing it in practice lately.”

“Hmm.” Jefferson was unconvinced. “I hope it doesn’t affect their grade of execution.”

The score was announced and a chorus of gasps filled the lounge. “115.68?” Will repeated. “What did you guys just get? 115 point something…”

“115.77.” Robin’s face had turned white. “Did we just…?”

“Keep your pants on, they were ahead of us in the short dance,” Regina reminded him. “Let’s see the combined total… ah. 195.16 for them, 195.12 for us. They still beat us.”

“But we beat them in the free dance!” Robin was beside himself. “That’s the first time we’ve ever outscored them.”

“They’ll be watching their backs at Worlds!” Anastasia crowed. “I mean…” she looked sheepish. “Not to take sides, but… as much as I respect Troyes and DuLac from a technical standpoint, I still liked your free dance better.”

“Decimal points aside, I’m just happy to be on the podium,” Regina said. “It’s a virtual tie. I’m fine with being on par with Troyes and DuLac. It wasn’t that long ago that they were so much better than us.”

“We worked hard to get to where we are,” Robin agreed. “And now we can truly say we belong.”

Lucas and Booth’s gold medal victory seemed like an inevitability. Their 81.29 score in the short dance gave them a small cushion over the teams that skated before them. “Let’s just enjoy the show,” Regina said before anyone had the chance to protest. “I have nothing but the utmost respect for Lucas and Booth and I won’t hear a word against them on our behalf.” That’s what it’s really about, she realized. Robin and I had the misfortune of rising through the ranks at a time when our sport was overwhelmingly competitive. To be at the top of pack in a field this deep is something to be proud of. Maybe I’d care more about winning if I was losing to others who weren’t as good as us. But if I’m to be a bronze medalist today, I’ll be honoured to stand on the podium with a team like Lucas and Booth. 

Back in the commentary booth, Mal’s line of thought matched Regina’s. “It’s so hard when all the teams are this good,” she lamented. “I want to give them all gold medals.”

“A three-way tie?” Cruella chortled. “Bless my soul. You really have grown sentimental in your old age, darling.”

“A lady never mentions another lady’s age,” Mal complained. “And you were the one asking for my beautician’s credentials just the other day…”

Leroy had just about given up on keeping his co-hosts on topic. “Lucas and Booth are starting now,” he reminded them. “What do they have that the others don’t?”

Cruella huffed. “It’s not about what the others don’t have. It’s about Lucas and Booth’s place in the standings. They’ve been the best, most consistent team in the quadrennial leading up to these Olympic Games. They come from a longstanding tradition of excellence in Canadian ice dance. No one has even come close to them until this year. This is as much about their body of work as it is about their own continued improvement. Now hush – they’re starting.”

Lucas and Booth’s program began with “A Lovely Night”, from the part in the movie where Mia and Sebastian sing and dance together after leaving a party. Despite her own bias in favour of Mills and Locksley, Mal was soon singing Lucas and Booth’s praises again. “They manage to capture the spirit of the film and the style of dance while also making it their own,” she said. “They’ve spoken this season about doing a lot of off-ice dance training to really bring the jazz style into the program. Ruby is so engaging to watch but there’s something stoic and vulnerable in August’s performance as well.”

“Stoic and vulnerable,” Leroy repeated in disbelief. “Let’s talk technique, ladies. All season long, Lucas and Booth have managed to stay ahead of the pack on the strength of their second step sequence. They’ve been the only team to earn the full level four for difficulty on that element, with a high grade of execution. That’s why they’ve been winning.”

“Pish posh,” Cruella grumbled. “I am past the point where I care a fig for levels and grade of execution.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not a judge,” Leroy muttered. “They do tend to care about that sort of thing.”

The music progressed to “City of Stars”, one of the more famous pieces from the movie. “I do love this song,” Mal said wistfully. “Look at how clean and deep their edges are. The way they gain speed is almost effortless.”

“And the split lift,” Cruella added. “Always a crowd pleaser. But I can’t help it. I liked the two previous teams better.”

“Can’t we just appreciate that we have three outstanding teams who are about to end up on this podium?” Mal cut in. “For the first time in a long time, no one is going to look back on this event and say that the fourth-place team was robbed.”

“Pechalat and Bourzat in Sochi,” Cruella reminded everyone. “Belbin and Agosto in Vancouver. Delobel and Schoenfelder in Torino.”

“Darmok and Jalad at Tanagara,” Leroy said under his breath.

“After today, fans may argue about the order, but no one can deny that these are the three best teams in this competition,” Mal said. “Oh! They’ve nailed the twizzles again. Their ice coverage was superb.”  
The music transitioned into “Someone in the Crowd” for the final segment of the program. There was a part of the song when the instrumental quieted down, only to ramp up in speed and volume before building to the finish. This was where Lucas and Booth performed their most difficult and daring step sequence, picking up speed with every beat of the music, without losing the difficultly of the steps and turns. The audience clapped along on the beat as the skaters pushed themselves through the final leg of their performance and they were on their feet again before the music finished. 

“Well, that’s done it,” Cruella said. “I can’t deny their attention to detail. They’ll win for sure.”

But by how much? That was the question that hung in everyone’s minds as Lucas and Booth skated off to await their scores. The skaters in the lounge were certain that Lucas and Booth would win, but when they saw the technical tracker jump down a few fractions of a point, everyone started murmuring again.

“That had to be a blip,” Alice insisted. “They didn’t put a foot wrong.” Almost the instant she said it, the tracker ticked up a few decimal places again. “There. They’ve got the technical lead, as predicted.”  
“Not by much,” Jefferson pointed out. “But they’ll do well on the program components.”

The scores finally came up: 116.01. Robin breathed in sharply. It was a huge score, but… 

“Bloody hell,” Will breathed. “That was a close one, mate. If they hadn’t had that huge score after the short…”

There was no time to commiserate. Regina and Robin were hustled out of the lounge and back to the ice for the medal ceremony before they could fully process what had just happened. They’d expected Lucas and Booth to win, but to be that close… “We scored higher than what Lucas and Booth did in the team event,” he whispered to Regina. “I can’t believe it.”

“There you are!” Guinevere waved them over to the side of the rink. “I knew it. I knew we’d all be here together in the end.” She hugged Regina and Robin in turn. “They wouldn’t let us watch the whole thing, but we saw the end of your program.” She sighed happily and placed a hand over her heart. “So beautiful.”

“You guys were amazing,” Regina conceded. “We almost had you there.”

A sad look crossed Lancelot’s face. “It’s hard to believe this might be the last time we’ll ever compete against you guys.” He rubbed his shoulder again and grimaced. “I dislocated it in training last week,” he explained. “Too many lifts. We’re gonna skip Worlds so I can heal up properly.”

Regina was taken aback. “You’re not going to Worlds?”

Lancelot shook his head. “It’s not just my shoulder. My back has been bothering me too in the last few months.”

Robin gave Lancelot a friendly pat on his uninjured shoulder. “I’m sorry, mate. When you two started keeping to yourselves at the rink…”

“We wanted to wait and see if things got better,” Lancelot explained. “I’ve had back trouble on and off for years. But the shoulder on top of it… but hey, at least now you guys will have a clear path to a medal at Worlds.”

“And we’ll be back and better than ever once Lance heals up,” Guinevere added. “So don’t think we won’t be kicking your butts all over the Grand Prix next season.”

Lucas and Booth were another story. They were a bit older – 27 and 28 – and they’d been skating at the senior level since their late teens. A decade of work. It was more than most skaters could wish for. When they arrived for the medal ceremony, the others could see that they’d both been crying as well. “We want to tell you guys before we go public: after the Olympics, we’re retiring,” Ruby said. “Bowing out on top.”  
“Oh.” Regina didn’t know what to say. “That’s…”

Ruby smiled sadly. “I know. This means you won’t get the chance to beat us for real. But let’s be real: you guys still have more stories to tell. We’ve been at this for longer and we’re burned out. It’s time to let the rest of the stars shine.”

“You’ve been brilliant,” Robin said. “We’ve always enjoyed watching your programs and competing against you. You’ve taught us all to be better.”

“You have,” Guinevere agreed. 

“It will be an honour to share this podium with you,” Regina said. “And it’s an honour to have almost beaten you,” she couldn’t resist adding.

Ruby let out a peal of laughter. “You’re still feisty. I like that. You’d better keep going until 2022, or we’ll drag ourselves out of retirement just to motivate you.”

“What d’you say, milady?” Robin turned to Regina. “Do you think we can hang in for another four years?”

Regina grinned. “I think we can do anything.”

“Just don’t let those upstarts catch up to you,” August joked. “Now you guys are going to be the ones they’re all chasing. The torch has been passed.”

“We’ll give them a run for their money,” Regina promised.

“Definitely,” Lancelot agreed. “Now let’s get out there and claim our medals.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearly there, friends: we're coming down to the final few chapters of Firedance! I can't thank you all enough for sticking with this story to the (almost) end. It's been a hell of a journey both for me as a writer and for our beloved characters. I appreciate you lovely readers so much! Let's see Mills and Locksley off in style as we move into the last leg of their journey <3
> 
> Bonus points to whoever spots the obscure Star Trek reference in the chapter. Someday I'll make footnotes of every obscure reference I've put into this story ;)


	27. The Olympic Ladies Free Skate

The medal was heavier than Regina expected.

She couldn’t stop herself from pulling it up to look at it all through the medal ceremony. The press of its weight against her chest reminded her that the last four years of work and sacrifice hadn’t been for nothing. This was something. This was her legacy. This was…

Robin nudged her. “It’s not going anywhere,” he whispered. 

She dropped her hand. “Ha, ha.” As if she hadn’t caught him lovingly adjusting the neck strap of his a minute ago so it would lie straight. “It’s not too late, you know. The judges might still change their minds…”

“Bite your tongue, Regina,” Guinevere piped up from the step above. “We don’t say things like that from the podium, lest we anger the skate gods.”

“Speaking of which,” Lancelot spoke up, “it’s time we made our sacrifices.”

Doping control was one of the least fun aspects of Olympic life. Medalists were selected at random to provide a sample for the authorities, so Regina ended up going after Ruby. “My favourite part of the competition,” Ruby said grimly as she exited the bathroom. “Have fun in there, Mills. You know you’ve made it as an elite athlete when they make you pee in a cup.”

Regina had nothing to hide, but the grave faces of the officials always made her feel guilty. She did the job as quickly as she could and raced off to join the others for the press conference.

“I’m so tired,” she complained as she slid into place between Robin and Guinevere. “Wake me if they ask something interesting.”

“They’ll be too busy fawning over the golden couple.” Guinevere nodded in the direction of Ruby and August, who were standing off to the side in a circle of photographers. “And who can blame them? Once they catch wind of the retirement, we’ll be lucky if they remember the rest of us are here.”

She didn’t sound resentful, but resigned. Ruby and August finally sat down with the others at the table and soon enough, the barrage of questions started. The first reporter directed a general question to the whole table, but once everyone had a chance to answer, the lion’s share of the attention went to the triumphant gold medalists. At least they’re humble about it, Regina thought, noting Ruby’s flushed cheeks and August’s bewildered smile. And who knows. Now that they’re retiring, the fight for the gold will be wide open and we’ll be leading the charge.

So she sat back and let Ruby and August field most of the questions. Let them enjoy it, she thought. This might be the last time they ever do this. 

The gold medalists knew it too. A seemingly innocent question about the World Championships brought a tear to Ruby’s eye and she couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m afraid this is it for us,” she confessed and right on cue, the cameras started to snap again. “This is our third Olympics and we’re not getting any younger.”

She started to cry in earnest and August saved her, picking up the thread. “When we first qualified for the Olympics way back in 2010, we were just kids. We always dreamed of this moment… and we always knew what would come next. We’ve given a lot to this sport over the last decade that we’ve competed and now… now it’s time to pass the baton.”

“We have the privilege to be sharing this podium with two amazing teams,” Ruby spoke up, managing to hold the tears back long enough to say her piece. She smiled down the table at Regina, who returned the gesture with a nod of encouragement. “And we have another wonderful Canadian team right behind us at home. Ice dance is in good hands.”

“And we like to think we set a high standard for those who follow,” August continued. “We’ve never rested on our laurels. We’ve tried our hand and many different styles of dance and I think that’s what we’ll be remembered for.”

Ruby sniffled, hiding a watery smile behind her hand. “I just can’t believe we’re really here,” she murmured, earning an encouraging round of applause from the assembled press and the other skaters. “It’s everything we’ve ever dreamed of.”

She broke down then, unable to hold back the tears. Robin dug around in his pockets to find a tissue and Regina passed it down the table to her. “Thank you.” Ruby discretely blew her nose. “You guys are so sweet. Give them a hand, everyone. Mills and Locksley.”

The press corps applauded again and it was Regina and Robin’s turn to blush. Even in their moment of triumph, their competitors were classy enough to acknowledge that it was a victory for all of them. 

“And Troyes and DuLac,” August added, making sure no one was left out. “Two of the hardest working teams we’ve ever had to compete against.”

“So what’s next for all of you – any big plans after you get home from the Games?” one of the reporters piped up.

“A nice long vacation,” Lancelot said, earning appreciative cheers from the other skaters. “What about you guys?”

“Well… we’re still going to Worlds,” Regina said. “Then after that, we’ll see.”

“Vacation sounds nice,” August agreed. “You guys can go to Worlds, but I’ll be on a beach somewhere.”

“Me too,” Ruby added.

“Together?” another reporter asked. “There’s been a lot of speculation about you two…”

“Nope.” Ruby took a steadying breath, stealing herself to say what was really on her mind. 

Oh my God, Regina realised. She’s gonna do it.

“I’m going on a European vacation… with my girlfriend.”

The press room was pandemonium after that.

“I was going to wait,” Ruby said to Regina once the reporters finally let them go. “But I figured… if I can’t tell the world who I really am at the pinnacle of my career, then when can I?”

I wish I was that brave, Regina thought as she gave her competitor a final hug. Over Ruby’s shoulder, she could see Mulan waiting for her. The girls linked arms and walked off together, smiling all the way. Regina watched them go wistfully, knowing that their best adventures were still to come.

****

Robin’s phone was beeping.

It was February 23: the day of the women’s free program. He’d set his alarm to give himself plenty of time to get back to the stadium to see the top two groups of ladies – to see if Tink could reach the top ten and to see if Elsa could win the gold. But first he had to silence that bloody alarm. But could he do it without disturbing her?

Regina was lying with her back to him, warm and content, dark hair spread out across the pillow. I should let her sleep, he thought. They’d been up late the night before and so enthusiastic in their Olympic sexcapades that their next door neighbour had to bang on the wall to get them to quiet down.

“Mrrmff.” Regina groaned into the pillow. “Shut that thing off. I need to sleep.”

“Sorry love.” Robin carefully leaned over her to retrieve the blasted thing. “Rest for a bit. We don’t have to be there yet.”

“But I’m awake now,” Regina whined. “If we miss Tink, she’ll never forgive us.”

Robin cozied up behind her, letting his chin rest on her shoulder. “We won’t. Just… stay a minute.”

She leaned back against his bare chest, skin melting into skin. “This is nice.”

“Very nice,” he agreed. “Last night… that was pretty nice too.”

She huffed. “Our neighbours didn’t think so.”

“Well.” Robin shrugged. “Someone was a bit loud.”

“Ugh.” She turned around and re-settled herself against his chest. “Someone was only loud because someone else wouldn’t stop doing that thing they like with my… oh!” She cried out when he snuck a hand under her arm to cup one of her breasts. “It’s things like that,” she complained, swatting his hand away, “that keep getting us into trouble.” She managed to hold him off long enough to sit up in bed and brush her hair out of her eyes. “I could really use a shower.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. 

“And unfortunately, this is one place where you can’t follow. It being a communal shower and all. There are still some rules of etiquette that must be adhered to.”

Robin pouted. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

But Regina shook her head. “Nice try, handsome. Some of us are a bit more refined.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “You were very refined last night when you kept begging me to…”

She wriggled away playfully. “Later,” she promised. “And quieter.”

“Fine by me, milady.”

An hour later, Mills and Locksley were both showered and dressed, ready to settle in for a long session of ladies’ skating. They arrived just as the Zamboni was finishing its rounds and found seats in the stands with Mulan and Ruby. “How are things looking?” Regina asked. “Who’s leading?”

“That tiny French girl just slayed everyone,” Mulan reported. “Oh look – here comes Crane and Other Mills.” She nodded up the aisle to where Abbie and Ichabod had just shown up. 

Regina waved them over. “We haven’t had a chance to talk since the team event,” Regina said guiltily once everyone was sitting comfortably.

“No worries, Other Mills,” Abbie said with a nod of respect. “We both had out individual events to worry about. And we both did pretty well.”

“Pretty well.” Ruby scoffed good-naturedly. “Silver in in the team event and gold in the individual for you two. Not too shabby.”

“Your Canadian pair, Smoak and Queen, gave us quite a run for our money,” Abbie admitted. “But that’s what makes it fun.”

After a run to the concessions stand, everyone settled in to watch the next group. A few familiar faces from the team event resurfaced: Krylova, the Russian skater, had taken a bad fall on her combination jump in the short program that left her far back in the standings going into the free. “Poor thing,” Ruby murmured, noting the bruise that had blossomed on the back of the girl’s upper leg. “I hope she redeems herself today. It was such a hard fall.”

Regina and Robin, who had been otherwise occupied during the ladies’ short program, nodded politely. Kathryn had gracefully spent the night with Frederick, leaving Regina with the room to herself, so naturally one thing had led to another. At least Regina had remembered to check the standings before coming to the auditorium. “I still can’t tell Krylova and the other Russian girl apart,” she admitted. 

“It’s that classical Russian training,” Ruby said. “We worked with a Russian choreographer one season and she did not suffer fools.”

“They both seem to come from the same school of movement,” Crane agreed. “You can see the ballet influence in her carriage and lines.”

Krylova posted a respectable score and the competition moved on. Rapunzel Kingsley was next to skate and Ruby was quick to talk up her teammate. “She was injured last year, but she’s come back in a big way this season,” Ruby said as Rapunzel’s music started. 

I remember hearing something about an ankle injury, Regina recalled. She circled her own ankle in sympathy. At least that’s one thing we have in common. “She was very impressive in the team event,” she recalled. That costume though, she added to herself. The drop waist is so unflattering on a girl her height.

Up in the commentary booth, Mal agreed. “It just takes away from the program for me when the costume doesn’t do the skater justice,” she lamented. “A pity. At least her jumps have been solid.”  
“Bad costume aside, this should easily overtake the leader,” Cruella predicted. 

“I think you’re both putting too much emphasis on looks,” Leroy complained. “Good, old-fashioned skating skills. That’s what I’m here for. And this girl has them in spades.”

His comments ruffled Cruella’s feathers. “It’s not all about looks, but you can’t deny they’re an important part of the package,” she argued. “It’s what’s expected.”

“But Mr. Leroy has a point. Just yesterday Emma Swan published a blog post about her experiences in the last few years and she talked about having to look and act a certain way,” Mal pointed out. “It was an interesting read. A lot of pressure gets put on these girls and sometimes even the best of us are guilty of feeding into it. Sometimes I can’t help myself. I’m a costume designer and my job is to make everyone look as good as they possibly can. So it pains me to see bad costumes happen to good skaters. It’s another level of pressure that they don’t need.”

In the time it took them to have this exchange, the marks had come up. “Easily into the lead for Miss Kingsley,” Leroy reported, turning the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Merida DunBroch is up next.”  
“Speaking of costumes, Merida has been wearing a unitard for both programs this season and I think it works for her,” Mal said.

“I still think a traditional dress is best.” Cruella sniffed. “Agree to disagree, darling.”

Merida was skating to “Edge of the World” by Within Temptation – a more introspective program than her usual upbeat numbers. She skated mostly clean until the final jump, stumbling out of the landing of her triple salchow. “Oh bullocks,” Robin muttered as she struggled to regroup and finish her last set of spins. “I thought she had that one. It looked good in the air but I think she caught a toe pick coming down.”

Regina stifled a giggle. Robin’s British-isms were always adorable. “She pulled off the rest of the program without a hitch,” Regina reminded him. “She’ll still post a respectable score.” But she wasn’t too worried about Merida just then. Not when Tink was skating next.

“Here comes Tina Kerr,” Mal reported from the commentary booth. “Coming in strong in the midst of what has been the best season of her career. It’s always a treat to see a skater from one of the smaller Federations have a run of success.”

“It’s so odd calling Australia a small Federation when it’s such a huge place,” Cruella said. “But they’ve never been much of a force in skating until little miss Tinkerbell here came along.”

“Not to mention their dance team,” Leroy reminded the others. “French and Hopper reached their goal of a top ten finish.”

“Let’s see how Tina gets on today,” Cruella said. “She’s skating to music from The Planets by Holst with “Leia’s Theme” from Star Wars sandwiched in the middle.”

Tink’s Planets/Star Wars program was the most ambitious routine of her career. For the past few years, Tink had been tirelessly training a triple-triple combination jump and while she couldn’t land it consistently, she was getting better. She’d managed it in the team event but had been slapped with a negative grade of execution for botching the landing of the second jump in the short program. I hope she gets it today, Regina prayed. What a triumph it would be for her to land it cleanly here on Olympic ice.

She held her breath when Tink launched herself into the air. She counted three perfect rotations before Tink touched down, springing up again into the second jump. She didn’t get as much height and Regina feared for the worst. But somehow, Tink was able to get the jump all the way around and touch down again with only the slightest wobble. “Oh thank God,” Regina exhaled. “She rotated it!”

“Hell yes!” Robin pumped his fist in the air. “That’s my Tinker.”

The rest of the program was a breeze. Tink was known for her innovative spin positions and while she didn’t always get the highest marks, some of the other girls had started to copy her inventions. “Our Tink may not be a contender this time, but she’s always been an innovator,” Regina said with a happy sigh as they got to their feet to applaud their friend when she finished. “And if some of the top girls decide to skip Worlds…”

“I can see a podium finish in her future,” Ruby chimed in. “She’s such a joy to watch. I love how supportive you guys are of each other.”

“She’s the best,” Robin said.

“She shipped us before we even got together,” Regina added. “Aw look. Someone threw her an actual Tinkerbell doll. That’s too precious.”

Up on the monitor, Tink was waving frantically to her fans back home and holding up the doll. “It’s wearing my costume!” she mouthed, earning a hearty laugh from the audience. “She’s the cutest person I’ve ever seen,” Abbie Mills piped up from down the row. “I hope she gets a good score. It’s so hard for athletes from countries not known for skating to make any headway.”

Tink scored in the 120’s for her free program. It wasn’t quite enough to make her a podium contender, but Tink herself didn’t care because she’d earned a new personal best. She jumped up to wave again, smiling and laughing all the while. Her coach let her have her moment before hustling her off to the lounge, looking happy and exasperated at the same time by her skater’s antics. 

Watching a string of good performances in the row could feel exhausting. Regina found herself yawning when the final group of girls took to the ice and quickly threw up a hand to shield her mouth. The last thing I need is to look spaced out on TV, she thought. Crane had ducked out to get coffees for everyone and when he came back Regina practically pounced on him. “Pardon me, Miss Mills,” he chuckled. “Had I known you were in such a state, I would have gotten your caffeine to you earlier.”

“Thank you.” She took a long sip, letting the liquid warm her insides. “I didn’t get much sleep.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t,” Abbie muttered, giving her the side eye. “With a partner as cute as yours.”

Regina busied herself with her drink, noting the look that passed between Abbie and her partner. Something tells me they’re not getting much sleep these days either, she thought to herself. Not with the way they’re always eye-sexing in public. 

The remainder of the women’s free program came in fits and starts for Regina, Robin and the others. Still emotionally and physically drained from the cycle of training and competing, Robin found he only remembered the programs of the skaters he was familiar with. Regina likewise needed a full ten minutes to recover from every routine, which meant she would often blink and be halfway into the next program with no recollection to how it started. 

She noticed it first when Jasmine Hart skated. Her Wonder Woman program was so impactful, Regina was still playing back the highlights in her mind when the next skater started. Jasmine had skated perfectly clean and taken over the lead but when Regina looked up, it was to see Maia Katsuki falling on her double axel. “Whoa.” She’d missed the whole thing. “Did she…?”

“Second fall,” Mulan reported. “And she didn’t fully rotate it either. Jasmine will easily hold on to the lead. She might even finish on the podium!”

“Stay with us, Other Mills,” Abbie chided from down the row. “Your girl is coming up.”

Oh right. Elsa. The reason we’re here. Regina took another sip of coffee to steal herself. Poor Elsa. How’s she coping backstage? Is she freaking out yet? Does she know how well Tink did?

But first it was Kira Yukimura’s turn. “I can’t watch,” Ruby lamented shrinking down in her chair. “They’re all so good, I want them all to win.”

Speak for yourself, Regina thought, but she didn’t dare say it out loud for fear of jinxing Elsa. Kira was a strong competitor. Elsa and Kira had been neck-and-neck for the last four years, trading victories back and forth at the Grand Prix Final and Worlds. But for the casual, once-every-four-years fans, today was the only victory that mattered. Elsa only had a slim lead after the short. All it would take was one little mistake to kiss the Olympic gold medal goodbye.

It didn’t help Elsa’s chances that Kira was skating a very charming program to music from Cirque du Soleil’s O. [Author’s note: the inspiration for this program comes from real-life Japanese skater Akiko Suzuki’s 2012-2013 season free program.] Kira was one of the most musical skaters on the circuit. Every nuance and highlight of the music was accented by delicate arm movements and fast-moving feet. Her jumps were consistent and her spins were centered. But Regina and Robin had watched enough skating over the years to know when a competitor was having an off day. 

Kira started her program with a frozen smile that didn’t reach her usually sparkling eyes. Her first jumping pass, a planned triple-lutz, triple toe combination, misfired. Kira skidded ever so slightly on the landing of the lutz, carrying her momentum too close to the boards to complete the combination. “Oh no,” Ruby whispered. “She’ll have to do another combo to make up for that.”

“Triple flip is next,” Mulan whispered back. “Let’s see if she puts it in there.”

Miraculously she did. Kira did a perfect triple flip, triple toe combination at the next jumping pass, changing her program on the fly. “Good thing she has the ability to do both those combinations,” Robin remarked. 

“But is a flip worth less than a lutz?”

“I’m afraid so,” Crane confirmed. “She’ll lose a few points in the base value for that.”

“Why couldn’t she have just done another lutz?” Robin wondered. “Oh wait. It’s the rule against repeating jumps, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. If a skater repeats a jump, the second one doesn’t count unless one of the jumps is in combination,” Abbie said. “I remember she has another triple lutz later in the program but she probably didn’t feel confident about waiting until the second half to do it.”

“But now she has to do the second lutz in combination, or else it won’t count,” Robin said. “So what does she do? Triple lutz, double toe in the second half for the ten percent bonus?”

Crane nodded. “That’s her best strategy now. But let’s wait and see…”

Regina let all the talk of jumps and combinations and bonuses go over her head. The mathematical side of the sport was never as interesting, unless she was talking to her coaches about how to maximize her and Robin’s scores. But the jumping disciplines had their own math to deal with. The second-half bonus was an initiative that started with the Code of Points judging system to create more balanced programs. Under the old system, many skaters did most of their jumps in the first half of the program. The second half bonus was put in place to encourage more balanced programs by awarding a 10 percent bonus for jumps attempted in the second half of the program. In the intervening years, more and more skaters took advantage of the second half bonus and as the result, the top scores kept inching higher and higher. In recent years, skaters had even started to push more jumps into the second half in order to maximize the amount of bonuses. There were even a few young skaters doing most or all of their jumps in the second half now, which was a point of contention for traditionalists. 

Regina thought it was funny. The whole reason why they put the ten percent bonus up for grabs in the first place was to create balanced programs instead of front-loaded ones, but now the system was backfiring because skaters were back-loading the programs instead. I’m so glad we don’t have to deal with this nonsense in ice dance, she thought. But at least Kira and Elsa are old school. They always have nicely balanced programs. No front-loading, no back-loading. Just good skating.

On the ice below, Kira appeared to have put her early mistake behind her. Up in the commentators’ booth, Mal and Cruella were praising Kira for being able to think on her feet to finish the combination. “I almost wonder if she slipped on something when she came down,” Mal suspected. “She’s such a consistent jumper. I’ve never seen her skid like that.”

“Oh behave,” Leroy grumbled. “Rule number one: don’t start a conspiracy theory unless it’s about the judging.”

“Well, the judges will have a lot on their minds today,” Cruella declared. “Aside from that little wobble, it’s been clear sailing for Kira.”

Leroy was less certain. “It may only look like a little wobble for the folks back home, but it’s a drop in her overall base value that she can’t afford,” he warned. 

“But the program components score will make up for that,” Mal pointed out. “This program has been a huge hit with the fans this season.”

Leroy sighed. “The fans ain’t the judges, sister.”

Kira didn’t have any more mishaps, but her early mistake left a crank in the door for Elsa to step through. Regina watched with interest as the Japanese skater was greeted at the boards by a stately older lady with an impassive face who was probably her mother and a frowning elderly man who was probably her coach. Tough critics, she thought. It’s easy to forget that everyone here is under the same amount of pressure. 

“Her coach looks like a real barrel of laughs,” Robin said mildly. “I wouldn’t want to cross him.”

“Old man Takahashi always looks like that,” Abbie said. “That’s just how he is. He’s actually a real softie.”

“We worked with him on a show in Japan a few years back,” Crane explained. “Not a bad chap. Just not much of a laugher.”

The announcer piped up to give Kira’s scores: just shy of 150 points, keeping her in contention despite the small error. “That should keep the fans happy,” Regina said. “But it does leave a little room for our girl.”  
But first, there was one more Russian skater to make a case for herself. “This is Petrova. The one we keep mixing up with Krylova,” Ruby reported. “She killed it in the short. But she’s never scored over 130 in the free. Yukimura and Hart have already done that today.” 

Regina could tell that Ruby was dying for her Canadian teammate to finish in the podium and in truth she was hoping for the same thing. But she was so drained from watching Kira that poor Petrova’s program barely registered. It was one of those soft, subtle programs that was enjoyable enough while it was happening but failed to remain lodged in the viewer’s brain afterward. Regina’s attention waned and she wondered how Tink was feeling backstage. She must be beside herself praying for Elsa to do well, she thought. I wish she was here with us so we could all worry together.

Petrova finished her program and the applause jarred Regina back to full consciousness. Her heart was starting to pound in her chest as her own worry for Elsa threatened to bubble over. A few minutes from now, Elsa will be stating her case for why she should be the Olympic gold medalist. Regina’s mind reeled at the thought. She could feel Robin shifting nervously in the seat beside her and she reached over to take his hand. “It’s almost time!” she exclaimed. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how nervous are you?”

Robin mumbled something about turning it up to 11.

Krylova earned a personal best free program score of 131.27. Only one skater remained now: the elegant and artistic Elsa Arendelle. When she glided to her starting position, Regina felt as if she was on the ice with her. Just a few days ago, that was us. She squeezed Robin’s hand. She heard him take a breath. And then…

The music started. This was Elsa’s most daring program, both artistically and technically. Her opening move – a triple lutz, triple toe combination – was a major points earner when she did it cleanly. Please, Regina thought. Please land it perfectly today. Please rack of those grade of execution points!

Elsa flipped over from the outside edge to the inside edge of her skate blade and launched herself into the air. Regina, Robin and the others held their breath and counted the rotations: one, two, three. No margin for error. She touched down and immediately sprang back up into the second jump. One, two, three. She came down easy, throwing her arms and her free leg out in victory. “Yes!” Regina almost jumped out of her seat. The combination was perfect. And it was worth more than the flip-toe combo Kira had done. 

“Bloody hell,” Robin murmured. “It was like she was floating out there.”

“Defying gravity,” Regina whispered back. “That’s our Elsa.”

Elsa wasn’t just a great jumper. She was also renowned for her varied and unconventional music choices. The first time Regina ever saw her perform, she’d been skating to Susanne Sundfor’s “Delirious”. Her Game of Thrones program from the previous season had gone viral on YouTube. But this year, Elsa was skating to pieces from the soundtrack to Hanna: a film about a young assassin. Elsa opened with the first 30 seconds of “Hanna’s Theme” before transitioning into “The Sandman”. Her combination had come just at a natural break in the music and the stadium broke into raucous applause when she landed it.   
The program only got more ambitious from there. Between the jumps, Elsa weaved her spins and transitions, taking care to show as many variations of movement as possible. In the second half, the music transitioned into the heavier and faster beat of “Bahnhof Ramble”, a piece that showcased one of the movie’s many fight scenes. For Elsa, it was a showcase for her step sequence. 

“I don’t know how she does that!” Mal exclaimed from the commentary booth. “She manages to be soft during the quieter parts of the music, but when the heavier beats kick in, she’s a beast!”

“I love the fierce look on her face,” Cruella said. “She doesn’t just jump, she attacks the jumps. And the speed on her step sequence! It’s all marvelous. Simply marvelous.”

“And the polar opposite of what we saw from Yukimura earlier,” Mal added. “What a privilege it’s been to see these two incredible young ladies compete here today. Both so different and both so good. And both worthy of the gold on a good day.”

Leroy chose this moment to cut in. “It’s going to come down to good old fashioned mathematics, ladies. Arendelle did a triple lutz-triple toe. Yukimura did a triple flip-triple toe. Arendelle has the edge on technical base value because her combination was worth more.”

“But Kira always scores well on the program components,” Mal argued. “And her program was a thing of beauty.”

“I agree. As much as I love Elsa, this program is unlike anything we’ve ever seen. Sometimes the judges like to play it safe.” Cruella sniffed indignantly. “And if Kira had done her planned triple lutz combination, it would have put them on par technically.”

“But Elsa’s no slouch on the program components,” Mal pointed out. It’s going to be close either way.”

Back on the ice, Elsa had just landed her late in the program double axel with a hand over her head. “Oh snap!” Ruby exclaimed. “I didn’t know she could do that Boitano hand variation.”

Regina grinned. “Someone had to show the Russian girls how it’s done.”

Robin was in awe. “I can’t jump at all, let alone with a hand over my head. She’s a wonder.”

The music transitioned back to “Hanna’s Theme” as Elsa went into her final spin. “Her layback is gorgeous,” Abbie sighed wistfully. “I could never get my back to bend like that.” 

To finish the job, Elsa grabbed hold of her skate blade and raised her free leg over her head. The audience went wild, already surging to their feet to applaud Elsa to victory. Regina and the others followed suit, clapping as Elsa completed the final rotation and struck her ending pose.

She did it! Regina thought as she clapped and cheered. There was no technical tracker showing the audience in the stadium the scores, but Regina knew perfection when she saw it. My housemate is about to become an Olympic gold medalist. Tink must be freaking out!

She finally sat down to wait for the marks. The little flower girls scooted around the rink collecting the flowers and presents from the fans while Elsa hugged her coaches at the boards. “I hope Tink found a screen backstage,” she said. “Her girlfriend is about to make history.”

Elsa waved to the crowd, earning another round of cheers and applause. She was unable to hold back from smiling. Usually her smiles were shy and demure but today she was positively glowing. “She looks like a princess,” Ruby whispered. “A real-life ice princess.”

“A queen,” Regina corrected. “And I rarely give that title to anyone but myself.”

The watching skaters breathed in collectively as the announcer piped up again with the scores. Regina heard 150-something but the eruption of cheering from the audience drowned him out. But it didn’t matter now. 150 was enough to take the lead.

Elsa looked up at the monitor as a lone tear of joy slid down her surprised face. Then she was standing up and waving as she clung to her coach’s arm for support. “She did it!” Regina crowed. “Just like I knew she would.”

The next ten minutes were chaotic. Spectators who chose not to stay for the medal ceremony surged toward the exits, leaving a trail of empty food containers and used tissues in their wake. The volunteers went out to set up the podium. But one lone television camera stayed on Elsa as she slowly made her way backstage. She paused at the curtain to wave to her adoring fans once more. A petite figure in a Team Australia jacket burst out from the wings and ran straight for her. Elsa saw Tink out of the corner of her eye and the two girls fell into each other’s arms, crying and hugging.

Mal squealed with delight. “Isn’t that the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen!” 

“What darlings!” Cruella agreed. 

Leroy coughed. “Yes. Well. They seem like good, um, friends.”

Mal and Cruella exchanged commiserating looks. 

The medal ceremony went off without a hitch. When Elsa skated out to take her bow, the camera flicked back to Tink, still waiting by the sidelines. Elsa made a heart shape with her hands in return. Then she took her place at the top of the podium. Kira followed, all smiles despite coming second. Then came Jasmine Hart, the surprise bronze medalist. She had the biggest smile of all.

“They always say the bronze medalist is the happiest,” Ruby said knowingly. “We couldn’t have asked for a better podium.”

The only thing better than Elsa’s victory were the interviews that followed. Though she’d wanted to wait until after the season ended to officially come out, Elsa decided there was no time like the present. “There’s no better time than now to share my truest self with the world,” she said later on. “I’m an Olympic gold medalist and I get to be here, on top of the world with the girl I love.”

Elsa and Tink kept to themselves in the days that followed. The Olympics were almost over anyway. Almost time to go back home and start prepping for post-Olympic Worlds.

“I can’t believe you guys are going to Worlds,” Abbie said to Regina before the closing ceremony. “Aren’t you tired?”

“We’re exhausted,” Regina admitted. “But we promised to see this thing through until the bitter end.”

“And then what?” Crane inquired. “Are you two sticking around for another Olympic cycle?”

Robin smiled and put his arm around Regina’s waist. “Anything is possible.”

Regina grinned. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”


	28. Epilogue: Bronze, Silver and Gold

It seemed somewhat ridiculous that there was one more competition after the Olympics. With the rest of the world still basking in the Olympic glow, many of the casual fans didn’t care. They’d already seen their champions earn their crowns.

For some of the also-rans, it was the last chance to win a medal before calling it a career. For the up-and-comers, it was an opportunity to set themselves up for the next cycle. And for some of the champions, it was an event they could easily skip – and skip they did. In the absence of their closest competitors, the competition was Mills and Locksley’s to lose.

Losing was never an option for Regina Mills. Her philosophy was to keep getting better until you reached the top. Then you could bow out with dignity. Robin went along for the ride and their combined efforts earned them a new season’s best score in the short dance, five points clear of the next team in line.

Elsa and Kira opted to skip Worlds, which left Jasmine and the Russian girls to fight over the podium. Jasmine was the ultimate victor in a competition marred by falls and late-season fatigue. It was a hard-won victory, but in the end, she made it by less than half a point over Petrova.

The pairs event was one for the ages. It was the last ride for the Canadian pair and they ended up being narrowly beaten by the Chinese. The Russians rounded out the podium with third. But in the end, that wasn’t what made the pairs free program memorable. Everyone in the audience agreed that David Nolan’s proposal to Snow Blanchard was the most romantic thing to happen at the World Championships that year.

After their free program, before their season’s best scores came in, David got down on one knee at centre ice and asked Snow to marry him. Snow, as she was wont to do, burst into tears and exclaimed a yes so exuberant she startled the referee. 

Of course that wasn’t the only romantic thing that happened at the post-Olympic World Championships. Mills and Locksley shared a kiss on the top of the podium when they finally won their gold medal. They were joined on that podium by Tremaine and Scarlet with the silver medal and Marvella and Gardiner with the bronze. LeFay and Ambrose finished fourth with Aurelius and Jameson rounding out the top five. Even without the top Canadians and the French, everyone agreed it was the perfect podium.

But there was another question asked and promise made far away from the prying eyes of the cameras and the fans. 

“I thought about doing it that way,” Robin said to Regina the morning after the free dance. “A big public proposal on the ice. But I didn’t think you’d like that very much.”

Regina, fresh from the shower and clad in a fluffy hotel robe, tilted her head to the side. He was right. She’d always found public proposals more tacky than romantic. But she’d never told him that. “Why’s that?”

Robin smiled knowingly. “Because there are two sides of you. The public side that likes to perform and win.” He snuck a peak over her shoulder to where her gold medal rested on the bedside table. “But there’s also a private side of you that likes to keep our relationship away from prying eyes.”

“True,” she admitted. “I won’t deny, there is something a little… creepy about the way everyone started shipping us during the Olympics.”

Robin chuckled. “When we perform, you completely disappear into your public persona. I love that side of you, even if she’s a little intimidating. But when I propose…” he moved in closer, resting his hands on her waist, “I don’t want it to be another performance. I want it to be just for us. When we’re both ready for it.”

“And not at the same time as two of our best skating friends,” she added. “That’s very considerate of you.”

“I’m a considerate person.”

“Hmm.” Regina was inclined to agree. Once again, he knew her better than anyone. “Who knows. Maybe when the time is right, I’ll propose to you first.”

Robin considered it. “Perhaps you should,” he said. “After all, you were the one who called me to tell me we should be partners. I’ve come to appreciate having a lady who makes the first move…” his gaze dropped to her lips.

Regina didn’t need an excuse to kiss him. He’d been inching closer all the while, giving her the chance to come to him. He always gave her the chance. It was one of the many things she loved about him. “Whatever we decide, we’ll do it together,” she said as she pulled away. “As you once said to me, you’ve got yourself a partner.”

“A partner,” he repeated. “My past, my present and my future.”

“And hopefully another Olympic medal in 2022,” she couldn’t resist adding. “But this time I’m not picky about the colour. I’ve already got everything I need.”

Robin pretended to pout. “And here I thought you’d want gold for sure.”

Regina laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re worth more than a hundred gold medals, Robin Locksley. Winning another one wouldn’t mean anything without you winning it with me.”

“But all the same, another gold would be nice.”

She matched his smile, drawing closer to close the gap between them. This was it. The biggest of their lives was over, but the adventure was just beginning. And they would skate into it, hand in hand, with their hearts beating as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks: the final piece of Mills and Locksley's journey. Thank you to everyone who kept up with this story after all this time. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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